The In-Between
by Bryler
Summary: Fed up with Izuku and Bakugo's endless rivalry, Aizawa forces them to start rooming and spending actual time together, intent on making them see they actually care about each other more than they realize.
1. The Sentencing

Izuku stepped into the A-1 Alliance dorm building, crossing the entry in a hurried pace and hoping to steal past the common area unnoticed.

He was glad he'd taken Iida up on his generous offer to train together for the past hour, but it was an hour that might have been better spent hitting the books instead. He had three days' worth of classes to catch up on, and he really needed to buckle down that night.

He eyed Kirishima and Kamanari huddled together on the couch, Ashido peering over them as they shared a video. Not wanting to drown out the audio, Ashido and Kamanari were unsuccessfully fighting to hold back fits of laughter as they watched.

Izuku couldn't help the faint smile that crossed him as he glimpsed the scene. Their laughter could be counted on filling the common room pretty much any given evening, and it was always a little contagious.

He caught a whiff of something enticing wafting from the kitchen, and wasn't surprised to catch sight of Sato eating the sweet results of his labor at the table.

Kirishima noticed him. "Hey, Midoriya!" He waved, inviting him over. "You gotta come see this, man."

Izuku's grin widened a fraction, despite regretting he'd have to take a raincheck. He was grateful for the invitation, but he couldn't allow himself to be drawn into the typical evening shenanigans. He had too much studying to do.

"Send me the link, will you?" Izuku responded, slowing a fraction. "Gotta get going on my catch-up work," he explained, offering a faint wave over his shoulder as he headed for the elevator.

Kamanari snorted again before briefly pulling his gaze from the phone. "We're about to start studying here, why don't you join us?" he asked.

Izuku stepped up to the elevator. "Yeah? Maybe I'll be back down in a bit," he offered, not wanting to outright decline. But he knew the kind of studying Kamanari was referring to was the kind that required quotation marks; AKA they'd be continuing to laugh over YouTube videos for another hour or so before they even cracked a book. Again, Izuku was grateful for the invite, but he knew he wouldn't be productive if he attempted his homework in the common area.

His house arrest had ended the day before, and while he was more than relieved to be back, the relief had been quickly drowned out by his anxiety over catching up. He'd made some decent progress the previous night, but he still had a ways to go.

He briefly wondered how Kacchan was faring. Today had been his first day back in class, and he'd seemed quieter than usual. Kacchan usually functioned on two settings: quiet and evasive, or explosive and in your face. There wasn't much in-between area with him. And while Izuku was more than familiar with both sides of his classmate (more so the explosive one), he could somehow tell it was a different sort of quiet Kacchan had fallen into since their sparring match they'd caught hell for the other night.

They'd exchanged accidental glances or brief snippets of (uncharacteristically civil) conversation when it couldn't be helped over the course of their house arrest, but mostly they'd tried to avoid each other.

The night of their fight had been...unexpected? Insane? Stupid? Horribly awkward? Izuku wasn't sure how to peg it exactly, and he still wasn't entirely certain how he felt about the the whole thing, as he'd been trying to avoid dwelling on it too much. It only brought him anxiety. Especially when an abnormally quiet Kacchan had been the only other person lurking around the dorms during their arrest.

How had Kacchan pieced everything between All Might and him together? Well, honestly, he knew how—Kacchan was extremely smart and perceptive. And he'd probably been obsessively dwelling on Izuku's relatively new power ever since he'd first witnessed it. Izuku pretended not to notice, but he'd caught many a seething glare sent his way during classes and training the last several months.

But yeah, of course Kacchan would have figured out where his power came from. Izuku knew he was stupid for putting it past him. And he knew he was an idiot for hinting about it to Kacchan in the first place. He shouldn't have done that. He should have listened to All Might. He just...well, the idea that Kacchan actually thought he was capable of pulling such a bogus move of lying to him for the last ten years...it just...hurt? Upset him? Both? Izuku would never attempt a ruse like that against his friend, let alone carry it out for over a decade. He still couldn't believe Kacchan had actually thought he'd been hiding his quirk and laughing behind his back. It was absurd. It was borderline insulting. Was that why he had let his hint slip? Because of his own pride, meager as it may be?

Regardless of why, ever since, a confrontation was inevitable. And when everything finally did come to a head, their 'confrontation' ended up turning into a full-blown fight. Honestly, in a way, Izuku was sort of glad it had. They'd had so much pent up...animosity? That was maybe putting it lightly on Kacchan's end, but yeah, lots of animosity between them. Finally addressing it had been...oddly relieving. Despite how destructive the fight had been, and despite the consequences.

And despite the fact that Kacchan now _knew_. He knew everything. Izuku had been very wary of Kacchan the past few days because of it. Wary of his quietness. Wary of feeling his eyes on him for brief moments when he thought Izuku didn't notice—weighing, judging, calculating. Izuku hadn't been able to get a feel for what might be going on in Kacchan's head, and that was probably the reason for his added wariness. Kacchan was usually very easy to read: Angry—avoid. But now his usual anger seemed almost...dampened, in a way. Like the sadness he'd unexpectedly (and likely regretfully) shown at Ground Beta still lingered.

Seeing Kacchan display actual emotion other than fury had been...a little surreal. And a little painful. Proud Kacchan...capable of actually crying. No one would have believed him if he told them (which he never would).

He couldn't help wanting to comfort his friend in some way, even though he knew Kacchan would immediately cuss him out for even thinking about it. He knew Kacchan would never accept his concern, and he probably didn't need it, but that didn't stop Izuku from wishing he wouldn't pick up on hints of distress every time Kacchan entered his field of vision lately.

Still though, a small part of Izuku had to admit he was a little glad someone else shared his and All Might's secret. Even if it was Kacchan. It seemed to have lessened the burden, as strange as that may seem. Again, even if it was Kacchan. There was now a faint feeling of knowing when their eyes accidentally met for brief moments. And something about that was almost a little...comforting in a weird way? ...Even it was Kacchan.

Izuku snapped out of his thoughts upon approaching his room. Mineta was sticking his head out the door down the hall.

"What'd you do now, Midoriya?" Mineta demanded, snickering.

"Huh?" Izuku asked, confused. He stepped up to his door, noticing a note taped to it.

 _See me after dinner._

 _-Aizawa_

What was this? Izuku swallowed dryly, wondering what more Aizawa might have to say to him. He couldn't recall doing anything wrong since completing his house arrest sentence.

Izuku pulled out his phone, glancing at the time. He hadn't eaten yet, but technically it could be considered 'after dinner.'

"Well?" Mineta pressed, smirking.

"Yeah...I'm...not sure," Izuku replied, pulling the note off as he entered his room. He figured he may as well grab his backpack in case he arrived earlier than expected and had some time to kill waiting.

What could Mister Aizawa want? Biting his lip, he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for his teacher's quarters.

* * *

 **5 minutes earlier**

Bakugo huffed as he stepped off the elevator and onto the fourth floor. That had been annoying as hell. _Why can't anyone in this damn place take no for an answer?_

No, he didn't want to see their lame-ass video. No, he didn't want to head up a study session, he had too much shit to do on his own. No, he didn't want to try any of Big Lips tooth-rotting garbageshit. Yes, everything was fine, what the hell did they care anyway, he just needed to get away, _goddamn_...

He huffed again, heading down the hall to his room.

What the hell..? There was a note taped to his door.

 _See me after dinner._

 _-Aizawa_

Ah, goddammit, what now? He didn't have time for this shit. He had four days' worth of work to catch up on, and the last thing he needed was a nosy teacher getting on his case again. He'd complied with all the terms of his house arrest. He'd even managed not to blow up shitty Deku while they'd been holed up together cleaning up everyone else's shit. What more could Aizawa want from him?

He ripped the note off, and made to enter his room.

What the eff? Why was his door locked?

He rattled the handle again. Locked. He never kept a key on him. No one really locked their doors in the dorms.

He immediately flushed, his shoulders tightening as he willed himself not to blow the handle off the door.

Which little effer's idea of a joke was this?

That piece of shit Grapes-For-Balls? He'd kill him. But why would that little douchebag have been on the fourth floor?

Was this Shitty Hair's way of making sure Bakugo had no choice but to join their lame-ass study group that evening? No, Shitty Hair was smarter than that. And usually more respectful. Kirishima had a pretty good read on his moods, and Bakugo knew he wouldn't have pressed him that night.

He glanced down the hall. Was it Arms? No, he and Arms had only interacted a handful of times, and Arms was actually one of the few people there that wasn't straight-up annoying as all eff.

Bakugo forced the tension in his shoulders to lessen somewhat.

He'd find out who'd locked his room from the inside. And he'd enjoy blowing their face off before they even had a chance to smirk about it.

Later though.

He sighed, turning around and heading back to the elevator. First he had to see what Nosy wanted.

* * *

Bakugo stepped into Aizawa's office and was instructed to have a seat and wait. Aizawa disappeared back through the door connecting his bedroom.

Kacchan eyed the two chairs facing the desk. He couldn't help fuming slightly at the sight, hoping that was their usual arrangement and there wasn't a particular reason why two chairs had been pulled up instead of one.

He took a seat just as there was a knock at the door accompanied by a "Mister Aizawa?" in the last voice Bakugo wanted to hear at the moment.

"...Effing hell." Bakugo said under his breath, closing his eyes briefly to keep from fuming too much. He was in his teacher's office. He had to keep it together.

Aizawa reappeared, moving to answer the office door.

"Come in, Midoriya. Sit down," Aizawa instructed in his usual even tone, stepping around behind his desk to face them.

Bakugo didn't turn to look at Deku, but he could practically feel how the damn nerd nearly jumped at noticing his presence. He wanted to shake his head at the idiot's hesitation. Why the hell had he been acting even more scared of Bakugo lately, after their throwdown had nearly ended in a draw? It had nearly ended in an effing draw. Bakugo found himself clenching his teeth, still hardly able to believe it. He pushed it from his mind, knowing it wouldn't be a good idea to dwell on it just then.

Deku slowly entered the room and reluctantly took the seat next to him. Bakugo fumed again. _Hurry it up, asshat, I don't have all night._

"So," Aizawa began, addressing them both.

Bakugo stared at the desk. He didn't feel like making eye contact with anyone at the moment. Least of all his teacher whom he knew was just about to scold them again. Why, he wasn't sure. He hadn't done anything wrong during their house arrest, and he didn't think Deku had either.

"Did you boys manage to resolve things during your time under house arrest?"

Hm?

He felt Deku glance at him briefly but made no move to acknowledge him.

"Huh?" Deku responded upon seeing Bakugo was leaving this shit up to him. "Wh-what do you mean, Mister Aizawa?" Eloquent as ever. Bakugo rolled his eyes.

"I mean," Aizawa responded, looking to Deku, "did you discuss it at all? Come to terms with each other? Agree to move past it with a newfound mutual respect and understanding of one another? Gain any semblance of the sorely lacking sense you both are very much in need of?"

"Uhhh..."

Bakugo let out an exasperated huff at Deku's uselessness.

"Right, I didn't think so..." Aizawa said, stifling an annoyed sigh.

Bakugo shifted slightly in his seat, knowing whatever came next wasn't going to be good.

"So here's what's going to happen," Aizawa began and Bakugo couldn't help raising his gaze to him. He just _knew_ some shit like this was about to go down. "You both know how irate the Ground Beta incident made me. You're too old for this kind of crap, and frankly, so am I." He inhaled, a hint of his usual fatigue present. "And the thing is, I'm absolutely certain a repeat of said incident is just around the corner. And another one around the next corner, and so on," he continued.

Bakugo and Deku couldn't help leaning forward a touch, all dread. They both clearly wanted to refute him, to beg him not to go on, but they were smart and remained silent.

"We're going to put an end to this now, before it has a chance to continue festering and grow even worse. Until you can convince me otherwise—that the self-destructive rivalry has been tempered, that the urge to one-up and knock down and completely best each other at every possible turn has faded," He paused, gathering a breath. "Until you can convince me that you're actual friends and not enemies—because contrary to popular belief, that's what you two are. I'm not putting up with this in-between nonsense anymore. The two of you have to figure out how to be friends if you're going to continue making any headway in this program and the heroing career in general." He drew another tired breath, sounding slightly more resigned. "Or at the very least, you have to learn how to tolerate each other and work together effectively." He paused briefly, reflective. "You two could be such a force to be reckoned with if only you were legitimately on the same side..."

"Mister Aizawa," Deku began, his voice bordering on panic. Bakugo shot him a fiery glare. He was the one who had the right to panic, not shitty Deku. "You can't really—I mean—s-some people just can't be forced to be friends."

 _Shut up, Deku._ Bakugo knew Deku was excluding himself from that statement and putting all the blame on him. What the hell did he know?

"I think you'd be surprised. If two people as polar opposite as Present Mic and I were able to figure out how to tolerate and actually even somewhat like each other, then I'm sure you two can, too. It's not that hard."

That was pretty rich coming from 'Mister The-World-Can-Leave-Me-The-Hell-Alone Aizawa.'

Aizawa paused briefly. "In this field you're going to be forced to work with and befriend all different types, some of whom you legitimately won't like. Now's the time to grow up and learn how to properly socialize—"

What? Properly socialize? That wasn't even an issue. This was such bullshit. They both had made friends in the program—yeah, maybe Deku more so. Every one of those idiots liked Deku for some unfathomable reason, but who the hell cared? Why did he feel like Aizawa was directing this all at him?

Aizawa was still going. "—Bakugo, I know this is mostly one-sided—"

Like hell it was!

"That's why you'll be the one to move into Midoriya's room—"

Wait, what? Had he...had he just heard him right?

"Starting tonight, you two are going to be rooming together, eating together, training together, studying together, doing literally everything together until you figure out a way to tolerate each other."

Bakugo was trying hard not to shake as much as he was. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Wh-what?" Deku sounded breathless with fear. "Mister Aizawa...we'll kill each other..."

Bakugo threw Deku a sidelong glare. _Each other? No, I'll kill_ you _, shitty nerd, shut the hell up._

"Then you'll save me the trouble of having to expel you both," Aizawa responded dryly. "I've asked Iida to help keep an eye on you. If he doesn't think you two are complying enough, or not enough progress is being made, further measures will be taken. Don't make me request the board to get a therapist involved, because that would be very annoying, and quite embarrassing on your part."

Bakugo was just staring, mouth slightly agape. Was he actually hearing this?

"Bakugo, you'll have access to your room for the next two hours to move your belongings. After that, your room will remain closed. I'll have staff members bring in another bed, desk and wardrobe later this evening, so don't worry about moving furniture."

Bakugo could only continue to stare. At least he was no longer shaking, frozen solid as he was.

"Mister Aizawa," Deku had broken out of his own stupor long enough to attempt negotiating. "Please—this—this really isn't a good idea—"

"I didn't ask your opinion, Midoriya," Aizawa responded, shutting him down. "I told you what's expected of you both, and if you can't meet such simple parameters of learning to tolerate each other and ceasing to be such a distraction to the rest of the class, then I have serious doubts this is the correct program for either of you."

Deku opened his mouth again, but no words came. Bakugo just sat there, completely awash with disbelief.

"Go. You're dismissed," Aizawa said, standing. He was about to turn away before deciding to add: "Take this seriously. Don't let your personal childhood prejudices prevent you from learning and growing from this."

It took effort, but Bakugo finally forced himself to his feet, his movements stiff and halting. He could feel Deku's eyes on him as he stood, but he refused to meet them.

He didn't say anything. He had no words. He turned on his heel, fists clenched tight to hide any sparks, and left the room.

* * *

 **Hi! So, I recently got sucked, and I mean, like, completely sucked into this fandom, and I desperately needed something to hold me over until season 4. This fic is going to do just the trick, I think. I'm already having so much fun with it, and I am super excited to get into it.**

 **So, the first, maybe, half(?) of this fic is going to deal mostly with a lot of character-study writing between these two favorite frienemies of ours. And then the angsty plot will kick in at about the half-way point. I can't wait to get to the angst. I'm not certain how far ahead of the anime the manga is, but I haven't read the manga, so I guess this fic will be considered canon-divergent from right after season 3. (Update: I have since caught up with the manga. Ahh, so good!)**

 **For anyone interested in following this, I should let you know I have one last chapter to add to a FFXV fic I'm concluding, and then I will be devoting my attention to this with updates coming probably every week or two for a while before tapering off to every three weeks or so.**

 **Also, I just want to throw a little disclaimer out there that I don't condone Bakugo's language at all, lol, and I hate the fact that this fic is going to be riddled with a lot of cursing. But my whole goal with this story is to be as accurate a character study as I can make it. And I feel like in order to do that I'm going to have to commit to Bakugo's potty mouth, even if it makes me cringe. XD Sorry to anyone else it offends!**

 **Thanks so much for reading!**


	2. The Moving In

Izuku made his way back to his bedroom in a bit of a daze. He...could hardly believe what had just gone down in Mister Aizawa's office.

He and Kacchan...were going to be forced to be roommates?

Was Mister Aizawa out of his mind? Did he have some sort of death wish for Izuku?

Had their sneaking out the other night really been such an offensive disregard of the rules as to warrant a death sentence? Because Izuku was pretty certain his death was the only foreseeable outcome to the conditions Mister Aizawa had laid out.

Kacchan would kill him within the first night. He knew Kacchan's outrage over this whole thing would be unrelenting. Especially seeing how Kacchan was still trying to come to terms with his most recent resentment towards Izuku—his realization that Izuku had caught up to his skill level. ...And his confirmation of Izuku's connection to All Might. How was Izuku supposed to deal with a Kacchan who was still processing all that?

Kacchan's spiteful words from the other night suddenly came to the forefront of Izuku's mind, despite his repeated attempts to keep them at bay.

 _"...I'll go higher than even you,_ Chosen One _..."_

Izuku inwardly winced. 'Chosen one...' Really? He knew Kacchan had mostly thrown it out as a sarcastic dig at him, but he also knew it was likely that Kacchan was really going to view him as such from then on, sarcasm aside or not. It was...not a comfortable thought. Izuku would never consider himself a 'chosen one' of any sort. Not at any point in his life, not even when he'd received All Might's powers. The idea almost made him scoff. Contrary to what Kacchan might think, Izuku had worked extremely hard to get to where he was. And he certainly didn't think he was in any way better than Kacchan, or anyone else for that matter, as the inheritor of All Might's powers. But regardless of whether or not he really was some kind of 'Chosen One' in Kaccan's eyes, the resentment was real, and Kacchan had promised to up his game even further because of everything he'd learned. And Izuku knew it was imperative that he keep right up with him.

The thing was, though, Izuku was hoping their competing could continue at as much of a distance from each other as possible. He was hoping to have at least a couple weeks of minimal to no interaction with Kacchan for things to cool down after the night at Ground Beta. But here they were, being forced to face each other again. Being forced to address everything that had happened.

Izuku knew it would have to be addressed. And he also knew Kacchan would not be agreeable to the idea. He knew exactly how things would go down: he would tentatively attempt to engage Kacchan in a civil conversation and Kacchan would immediately shut him down with a few choice words. Well, hopefully he only used words. If things got physical again... Izuku shuddered at the prospect, a fleeting glimpse of Mister Aizawa's livid face crossing his mind.

But if they were seriously going to be forced to live together, Izuku couldn't stand the thought of still having so many ignored, unsaid things between them. Kacchan's resentment and dislike would only continue to build further, if that were possible, and Izuku hated to think of what would happen the next time things came to a head. The confrontation at Ground Beta had been a small start of sorts. There was still such a long ways to go though. Izuku vaguely wondered if progress between the two of them was something that would even be feasible. He knew he wasn't kidding himself by admitting he and Kacchan could never actually be friends again. Their relationship was too far gone. There was too much hurt and too much hate—hurt on his end, hate on Kacchan's. And it wasn't that he couldn't forgive Kacchan—he could. Fairly easily, too. But he knew Kacchan would never ask for nor want his forgiveness. The idea would only infuriate him. Izuku truly believed Kacchan was incapable of seeing all the wrong he'd done over the years. He knew Kacchan was smart and observant, but his all-encompassing pride inhibited a lot of his perception. And how could anyone feel remorse for wrongs committed blindly?

With the possibility of friendship off the table, maybe they could at least fix things to the point where Kacchan wouldn't want to murder Izuku anytime he laid eyes on him? That would definitely be a step forward.

As much as he hated admitting it though, Aizawa was right, in a way. His and Kacchan's animosity was too much of a distraction. A destructive one. And as much as Izuku wanted to brush off the blame and chalk it up to Kacchan just being an impossible person who couldn't stand him, he knew he was going to have to shoulder a bulk of the responsibility of fixing things. More perhaps, since he was the one that actually cared.

He sighed.

Ah, as much as this was going to suck, Izuku was still going to try. Because that's what he did. He wasn't one to back down from a challenge. And he wasn't nearly as afraid of Kacchan as he used to be. They were actually evenly matched now.

Izuku couldn't help the smallest spark of pride that suddenly came to light inside him at that thought. He was actually capable of holding his own against the boy who had so relentlessly tormented him growing up; who had looked down on him so completely. Izuku had come so far. And no one, not even Kacchan was going to stop him on his path to becoming the next number one hero. Even if he was forced to face him literally every hour of every day. He could do this. He could.

Izuku snapped back to the present. He'd arrived at his room, and he hadn't noticed Mineta was peeking out his door again, talking to him.

"...Well?"

"Huh?" Izuku asked, having missed his question.

"What was that all about?" Mineta repeated impatiently.

"Oh, uh...," Izuku wasn't sure how to reply. He didn't want to completely brush Mineta off, but he also didn't want to voice the prospect of Kacchan moving in with him, because that would just make it all that much more real, and he wanted to stay in denial over it for at least the next hour.

"Aizawa just...needed to talk to us...," Izuku trailed off vaguely, opening his door and disappearing inside before Mineta could grill him further.

"'Us?'" he heard Mineta question down the hall. He didn't have as much beef with Mineta as most of their class did, but yeah, he supposed the guy could be a little nosy.

Izuku dropped his backpack with a disheartened sigh. And he'd thought things had been looking up since his house arrest had ended. Kacchan had been so much less confrontational than usual, he'd somehow caught the attention of the head of UA's Big Three, and he'd felt such a renewed sense of determination and...confidence, almost.

And now...now he was just feeling all around crappy.

Life with Kacchan...was not going to be fun, to put it bluntly. But Izuku could hold his own now. He'd proven that. And Kacchan had actually acknowledged it. He'd have to remind himself of it again and again.

He shouldn't be as scared as he was... He shouldn't be as filled with dread as he was.

Two hours. He had close to two remaining hours of a relatively happy life to take advantage of. He knew Kacchan would push the move off as close to the time limit as possible. And that was fine with Izuku.

He glanced around the room. He really needed to start studying, but he supposed it might be helpful to get going on rearranging some of the furniture.

Izuku swiped up handfuls of All Might action figures, tossing them in a box in his closet. He pulled his lamp's cord from the wall and started maneuvering his desk under the window. Kacchan's could form a corner with it, while leaving enough room for a second bed along the wall opposite his.

Shoulders drooped, Izuku tried to stifle another sigh. This just...sucked. He'd loved living on campus. He'd loved his room. The peace and quiet of it. Despite the brightly colored All Might memorabilia. That was what he liked most about it, actually. It had been a haven of sorts that had made him really happy the last several weeks.

...And now it was going to be a prison of sorts. A cell he'd share with the one person who hated him most in the world.

He sighed again (and he _didn't_ sniff just then), and bent to gather his backpack. Dejected, he made his way to his desk and pulled out his homework.

It was only a few minutes later when a polite knock sounded at his door. It definitely wasn't a Kacchan knock, luckily. He got up to open it.

Two maintenance staff members greeted him, carrying a bed frame between them. Izuku motioned them in, trying to come across more courteous than he felt at the moment.

They entered the room and lowered the frame to the space Izuku had cleared. It was small—only a twin size, when the rest of the students' were fulls. Izuku suspected they'd borrowed furniture from one of the unoccupied dorm rooms the school had furnished as potential guest rooms if ever needed.

The workers disappeared and came back several minutes later with a mattress. And then again with a small desk and dresser.

Izuku's heart grew a little heavier each time they returned with something new in tow. The next addition to his former safe haven would be Kacchan himself.

Izuku stared at his homework, wondering why it briefly looked a little blurry. He was finding it difficult to concentrate. He had been so optimistic about getting all caught up that night. But of course all this had to happen instead.

Ugh. Focus. Stay on task. None of this really mattered when there was work be done. ...It didn't matter if Kacchan was potentially going to blow his door away at any moment. Just concentrate.

The minutes ticked by and Izuku's nerves only became more and more on edge. It was making studying impossible. He almost wished Kacchan would just show up already and put an end to his tense apprehension.

He sighed, half-heartedly tossing his pencil against the notebook. He leaned back, stretching his cramped muscles.

There was a knock at the door. And it actually...didn't sound quite as hostile as Izuku was expecting.

That didn't stop his stomach from completely dropping, though. He turned in his chair. "...Come in," Izuku said, wishing his voice sounded a whole lot steadier than it did.

The door opened, and there was Kacchan—arms full of a large stack of clothes, face wrought with a look that just dared anyone to make eye contact with him.

Why was it suddenly so hard for Izuku to swallow? "...Hey," he said, half-way drawing to his feet.

Kacchan continued to glower at him from the doorway for what felt like way longer than the brief moment it was, and finally stepped inside, ignoring Izuku as he pulled his eyes away and turned towards the extra dresser.

Wordlessly, he began piling his clothes in the drawers.

Izuku stood, all hesitation. "Do you...do you need any help? With the rest of your things, I mean?"

Kacchan stopped for a moment, shoulders tight. Izuku could hear his sharp breathing across the room. He stood there unmoving, before turning to lock crimson eyes with Izuku once more. "No."

As brief of an answer as it was, it certainly wasn't lacking in seething vehemence.

Izuku willed himself not to stutter in response. "Okay," he said, surprisingly close to evenly. "I'm just...gonna get back to my homework, then..." He turned his back to Kacchan and sat back down, retrieving his pencil and hoping he might actually find some focus now that the Dreaded Moment had officially passed.

Kacchan quietly resumed his task behind him, opening and closing drawers, and silently leaving at intervals, going back and forth between the fourth floor. The closet opened several times between his reappearances, and then eventually the bathroom.

Finally, the move apparently complete, Kacchan drew up next to Izuku, dropping his books on the smaller desk with a thud. He wasn't gentle as he pulled the chair out to take a seat.

Izuku glanced at him from the corner of his eye, a little relieved and a little wary at Kacchan's continued silence. It was like Ground Beta had really messed with him, or something. He was so difficult to get a read on lately. But as long as he was intent on getting right to his homework without interruption, Izuku was fine with that. He turned his attention back to his book.

They worked next to each other for a good fifteen to twenty minutes, neither speaking or even glancing at each other.

Every so often though, Izuku would notice Kacchan's pencil immediately stop, his shoulders drawing in, tightening. Izuku eyed him nervously out of the corner of his eye every time that happened, but mostly he pretended not to notice.

It occurred at frequent intervals, perhaps every five to ten minutes, and Izuku could swear Kacchan's shoulders had started to shake the last time he'd paused. Izuku hesitated briefly before going back to work, his own pencil more tentative than before.

It was about another five minutes later that Kacchan finally snapped.

He suddenly drew to his feet with an angry growl, grabbing at the nearest All Might poster on the wall. He tore it down, ripping at a piece of tape that had held it in place, and rounded on Izuku, shoving it squarely against his mouth.

It happened so fast, Izuku could barely blink. And he failed to hold back the muffled gasp of alarm that escaped him.

"Shut _up!_ " Kacchan yelled in his face.

Thoroughly startled, Izuku raised a hand to his face, aiming to free his mouth as quickly as it had been obstructed. He felt immediately indignant at the tape's uncalled for intrusion. Why had Kacchan done that?!

Kacchan noticed him reaching for the tape and immediately snagged his wrist in a vice-like grip. "Don't you dare take that off, Deku," Kacchan warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Well, so much for Kacchan's perplexing silent treatment. This was more like the Kacchan Izuku knew. Although that didn't make the situation any less maddening.

Izuku reached up with his other hand, and again, Kacchan instantly seized it in an unyielding grip. "Did you hear what I said?!"

Izuku let a muffled protest escape him and flushed in anger and embarrassment. What was Kacchan's problem? He hadn't even done anything!

He tried to tug his wrists free, but Kacchan's grip was painfully solid. "Did you hear me?!" Kacchan demanded again as Izuku attempted twisting towards his thumbs to break free. There was no give. "Did you?! Stop fighting, you goddamn piece of shit!"

Izuku started getting a little frantic, because honestly, Kacchan was scaring him a little. He pushed back as far as his chair allowed, hoping to pull free, but it just wasn't happening.

He wasn't sure if he made the conscious decision or not, but before he even realized what he was doing, his arms were alight with One For All. He'd just needed a little strength to free himself from Kacchan's grasp.

Kacchan noticed and immediately released him, causing Izuku to fall backwards and crash to the floor with a loud clatter, his shout of alarm hindered by the tape.

Kacchan was straight away in battle stance, palms flipped upward and sparking. A dangerous grin stole across his face. "Is that how you want to play this, Deku?!"

Izuku rolled to his back and immediately ripped the tape off his mouth. "Kacchan!" he demanded, drawing his elbows under him. He was vaguely surprised it was indignant anger he was addressing Kacchan with, not fear. "Stop! What's your problem?!" He had let go of One For All as soon as Kacchan had released him.

Kacchan didn't relax his stance. His palms continued sparking. "Come on, you little shit, you wanna go?!"

"No—calm down, geez," Izuku replied, pushing himself to his seat and rubbing the back of his head. "What the heck did I even do to you?" As vulnerable as he was on the ground, and with One for All released, Izuku was fairly certain any threats of a fight wouldn't amount to much. Kacchan wouldn't attack him at a disadvantage like that. Not in the dorms. Not when they were already in trouble.

Kacchan's palms stopped sparking, but he didn't exactly relax his stance. "You wouldn't. shut. up. God, just shut up!"

"I wasn't even saying anything!"

"You were _mumbling_ , you goddamn moron. Always the goddamn _mumbling_."

"I—" Izuku blinked. Had he been mumbling as he was studying? He hadn't even noticed. "I...didn't realize," Izuku admitted, a little embarrassed. "But geez, all you had to do was ask me to stop."

"Tch," Kacchan spat, flinging his chair back in place before plopping back down in it. "Why don't you just keep your goddamn mouth shut and save me the trouble, asshole."

Izuku hung his head a moment, exasperated. Could there have possibly been a more demonstrative preview of what life with Kacchan was going to be like?

He sighed. Kacchan shot him a glare. "The hell's your problem?"

"Nothing," Izuku responded, stifling another sigh.

Kacchan huffed again before returning to his homework, and Izuku righted his chair, pulling it back into place and straightening the books that had been knocked askew during the ruckus. He attempted to get back to his work, his head stinging mildly, and his pride a little wounded.

It wasn't a couple minutes later that there was a knock at the door.

"Midoriya?" It was Kirishima's voice.

They both glanced over their shoulder, and Izuku stood to answer.

Kacchan went back to his homework, glaring. He likely knew the timing of the visit was no coincidence.

Izuku drew the door open, revealing Todoroki and a concerned-looking Kirishima. The two had become fairly decent friends since Kamino Ward. Likely to the dismay of Kacchan. He never acted possessive over Kirishima, preferring to pretend the red head actually didn't mean much to him, but Izuku suspected Kacchan hated that Todoroki attempted friendliness with his best friend. It was actually kind of ironic that it was the mutual desire to rescue Kacchan that brought them together in the first place.

"Can we come in?" Kirishima asked, as Izuku gestured them in. A quick glance across the room saw Kacchan's shoulders tightening again as he stayed hunched over his homework.

"Is everything all right in here?" Todoroki asked, getting right to the point as he crossed the threshold.

"Yeah," Izuku responded, playing off the question as if he didn't understand why they were asking.

"We heard a commotion from downstairs," Todoroki continued, eyeing Kacchan with the faintest trace of accusation etched amongst the stoicism.

Kacchan suddenly whirled around, slamming his pencil against his notebook. "Why don't you mind your own goddamn business, Half 'n' Half?!"

"Hey, Bakugo!" Kirishima waved cheerfully, approaching him and claiming Izuku's seat for a moment.

"What do you want, Shitty Hair?"

"Iida filled us in on this whole 'Part Two' of your guys' punishment," Kirishima explained, a hint of condolences behind his voice.

"Yeah, it sucks ass, what the hell do you care?"

"Aizawa's a bit of a hardass, isn't he?" Kirishima smirked, having maybe just a little fun with Kacchan's flustered state.

"Stop talking to me."

"Although, gotta admit," Kirishima went on, still grinning. Izuku admired the heck out of the guy for never being the least bit intimidated by Kacchan. "Midoriya's definitely the one getting the worse end of the deal here. Being stuck with you for who knows how long? Man..."

"What the hell do you know, you goddamn idiot?! Why are you even here?!"

Kirishima laughed.

Todoroki was briefly studying Izuku, looking for any obvious signs of abuse. Izuku avoided his gaze, pretending not to notice.

He was grateful to his friends for being willing to look out for him, but he kind of wished they wouldn't. He feared it would only draw further resentment from Kacchan. And plus, he could handle his own now. They'd already had their first physical altercation, and Izuku had survived just fine. He could do this.

Todoroki conversed quietly with Izuku for a bit while Kirishima went back to poking the proverbial bear with a stick. He kept at it until Kacchan finally snapped.

"How the hell am I supposed to get any of my fucking work done, when all you stupid fuckers won't leave me the fuck alone?! Get _out!_ "

Kirishima snickered on his way out, his work done there for the evening. Before leaving, Todoroki gave Izuku what only he could interpret as an encouraging nod. Anyone else would have just called it a barely noticeable inclination of the head.

An hour passed in relative and productive peace, before Kacchan finally put his pencil down and stood, disappearing into the bathroom. And upon re-emerging ten minutes later, he made his way straight to Izuku's desk and flipped off his lamp.

"Hey, I'm not done yet."

"Yeah, you are. I'm not going to sleep later than ten-thirty."

Izuku stood with a resigned sigh, figuring it was no use. He may as well get ready and go to bed.

Kacchan whipped back around to face him once more, and Izuku nearly bumped into him. Kacchan stuck a harsh finger in his chest. "Stop with the goddamn sighing."

Izuku raised his hands defensively. "All right, geez."

"And stop saying 'geez' every two seconds like a little bitch."

Izuku fumed faintly. "Okay, Kacchan, any other requests, Your Worship?" Had he seriously just mouthed off to Kacchan? What was he thinking?

Kacchan glared. "Yeah. Don't get smart, you piece of shit. And keep your goddamn mouth shut. I swear to God, if I wake up to any mumbling tonight..."

Izuku was a little glad he didn't finish that threat. He made his way to the bathroom and got ready, trying to keep his thoughts from reeling as much as they were.

He climbed into bed a short time later, yawning and kneading his pillow. He rolled to his side. He pushed the blanket off him a fraction, too hot. Then pulled it back as a draft snuck in. Unsatisfied, he rolled to his other side.

"Stop moving."

Izuku tried to still himself, but it was no good. He could never fall asleep without going through his usual fifteen minute adjustment period.

A moment later he flipped his pillow over and rolled to his stomach. It was still no good. He rolled to his back once more, arms drawing up to cradle his head.

"Hey, shithead, if you don't stop moving, I swear to God I'll tie you down to that bed so tight you can't even breathe."

Izuku didn't reply. But luckily, he was comfy enough to finally stay still.

"Kacchan," Izuku spoke a moment later, sleep inching its way around his eyes. "I'm not gonna let you hold me back," he stated through a poorly-stifled yawn.

Kacchan was silent for a moment and Izuku wasn't expecting a reply. "...Great. Now shut up the hell up and go to sleep."

Another long moment passed.

"And...I don't want to hold you back either." Sleep was more threatening now, dulling his thoughts and speech. "I'm—" Another yawn. "I'm...sorry about all this..."

...

"...Go to sleep, shitty Deku."

* * *

 **So, since I was pretty surprised and grateful for the initial interest expressed in this fic, I decided to get going on chapter 2 pretty quickly for you guys. And new fics are just so exciting in the early chapters, it's hard not to keep writing away at it.**

 **Well, the boys are officially roommates now. Poor Izuku, I felt pretty bad for him throughout this chapter. Kirishima was right—he's definitely on the worse end of the deal here.**

 **I hope the characterizations came across as believable. That's always my main goal. I'm trying to show a bit more confidence than we're used to seeing on Izuku's end, because I really think he would have gained a fairly significant amount after Ground Beta.**

 **And Kacchan is kind of in a weird place right now with his own confidence. Again, because of Ground Beta. I hope it's somewhat coming across that way.**

 **Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! As always with multi-chapter fics, comments are pretty vital (and very appreciated!) for keeping writing motivation up. And I really want to stay motivated with this one because it's going to get really fun down the road.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. Notes in Class

Bakugo woke early, blinking his eyes open and squinting at the unfamiliar setting. A faint pre-dawn glow took on a purplish hue as it filtered through red and blue curtains. Oh, right. Deku's room. Goddamn it.

He sat up stretching, not feeling quite as well-rested in his new, crappy twin-size bed. It was shit and it sucked. But whatever. It was just another crappy aspect of this infuriating punishment Aizawa thought he couldn't hack. He'd show him though. He wouldn't say shit about any of it.

He definitely didn't want to, but he let his gaze fall to Deku across the room. Well, at least where shitty Deku should have been. His bed was empty. And already made.

Bakugo immediately fumed, taking it as an obvious dig against him. That piece of shit. Deku had the gall to get up and get going without so much as disturbing him? Did Deku really think he was that much better than him? What, 5:30 wasn't early enough? Deku really thought starting half an hour earlier would give him that much of an edge over Bakugo? Screw him! Bakugo would set his alarm for 4:30 the next day, and he'd show that goddamn nerd what it meant to get up and get going early. That shithead.

He drew his covers aside and immediately made for his dresser, grabbing some workout clothes and throwing them on.

Still fuming, he left the room already practically at a jog, making his way downstairs and out across the grounds. He ran to the main building and headed for the gym. If he bumped into shitty Deku there... He'd give him a piece of his mind. He'd tell that stupid nerd off for letting him sleep longer than him. Goddamn.

His blood was still boiling as he entered the training gym. There was a handful of other kids there in the gym nearest his home room, but luckily not a tuft of green hair met his sight. They were just a bunch of extras.

Bakugo was still seething as he set to training. He couldn't decide if he was relieved or disappointed not to find Deku there. Yeah, it was nice to have a break from the annoying little shit for once. But it might have been nicer to have had the chance to stomp ass on him that morning instead.

It was actually better he wasn't there, he concluded. If he felt goaded to the point of seriously physically clashing with Deku again...they'd catch hell. Even more hell than they'd already caught. It wouldn't be worth it.

Still, he was surprised Deku had the nerve to ignore Aizawa's instructions about them training together. He'd thought for sure the stupid nerd would be trailing him all morning. But maybe Deku thought beating Bakugo awake gave him a loophole out of Aizawa's rules. That asshole.

Bakugo was surprised he actually felt somewhat disappointed about training alone. Again, not because he wanted that idiot's company, by any means. But it would have been advantageous to keep an eye on what Deku was currently working on.

Bakugo would be an idiot not to admit Deku's progress had been consistent and inordinately fast. And now it finally made sense why. The little shit was the new inheritor of All Might's powers. One For All. Bakugo still... could hardly believe it was true. He'd suspected. He'd has his theories. But to have had them all confirmed straight from All Might's mouth the other night...it just...

Bakugo heard a shout of alarm nearby.

"Watch it, first year!" One of the extras yelled at him. He hadn't realized he'd lost a little bit of control over his explosions as his thoughts had been getting away from him.

"Watch yourself, asshole," he snarled back.

Goddammit. Bakugo couldn't let his anger get away from him like that.

Deku was strong now. And fast. And getting stronger and faster everyday. As infuriating as it was, he had to admit it to himself. Staying in denial would only give Deku more of an edge over him—would only cause him to be taken by surprise again and again at his constant improvement.

God _dammit!_ Of all the people All Might could have chosen. Why...? Why did it have to be _Deku?_ Why was Bakugo cursed to never be rid of that stupid nerd in his shadow? That stupid, idiot nerd who always thought he was so much better. Who could never be taught his place, no matter how hard Bakugo tried. Who was actually now capable of pulling free from Bakugo's shadow, despite how hard Bakugo tried to keep him there... Why?!

"Hey, firsty!" The extra seemed angrier now. "Are you trying to kill us, you idiot? Why don't you take a little break and get ahold of your quirk, you noob!"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME—?"

* * *

After jogging around the campus to cool down from his heated training session, Bakugo decided he'd better start getting ready for class.

Ugh, and that meant going back to Deku's room. The morning had been nothing but aggravating already, and now Bakugo was going to be forced to face the source of his aggravation once again. How in the hell was he supposed to survive this punishment? And how in the hell was Deku supposed to survive it, for that matter? Bakugo knew it was only a matter of time before he likely killed him.

But he knew that was all part of Aizawa's testing him. He had to prove he could keep enough of a handle on his temper. He'd be out if he couldn't. All because of Deku. It always came down to shitty Deku.

He tried his best to contain a growl as he flung their dorm room door open.

Deku was sitting at his desk, hair damp, and already dressed in his uniform. He offered a half-hearted glance over his shoulder in greeting.

"Hey," he said distracted, turning right back to his homework.

The idiot had already trained, showered, gotten ready, and now had more time for his studies than Bakugo would.

Bakugo tried to swallow another growl. "Nice to see you're taking Aizawa seriously, asshole."

"Huh?" Deku glanced over at him.

Bakugo threw a drawer open, gathering clean underwear and socks.

"What, you thought you'd be all careful about not waking me this morning? Just so I wouldn't kick your ass in training?"

He didn't turn to face Deku, but he could practically feel how the nerd's brow furrowed at that.

"You...wanted to train together this morning?" Deku responded, confused.

"I don't _want_ to do anything with you, shit-for-brains," Bakugo turned to glare at him, infuriated by Deku's unfailing tendency of always missing the goddamn point. "I'm just saying if you think you can get an edge on me by sneaking out and starting earlier than me, you've got another thing coming, asshole."

Deku's brows pinched even closer.

"And if that idiot four-eyes narks on us to Aizawa all because you're a goddamn chickenshit-wuss, I'll beat the crap out of you."

Bakugo could practically feel the idiot's wide eyes boring into him as he turned, flinging the closet open.

"Kacchan, I just...didn't want to wake you," Deku explained, a hint of confusion still lining his voice, "that's all. I didn't—I wasn't looking for an advantage by getting up earlier." He paused a moment. "And if I _had_ woken you before your alarm, you would have lashed out at me, anyway."

Bakugo turned to lock eyes with him. Those stupid, big green eyes, always full of bewilderment. Because Deku was an idiot.

"Lashed out?" Bakugo repeated him, his voice dangerous. "I don't 'lash out,' you goddamn moron. What am I, six?"

"Well," Deku replied a little hesitantly, "...what are you doing right now, then?"

Bakugo took a threatening step towards him. "I'm about to punch your goddamn face in, for one thing."

Did Deku just stifle a snicker? He'd turned back to his work, so Bakugo couldn't tell for certain. Oh, he'd punch his teeth in for sure if he was laughing.

"Okay," Deku said, tapping his notebook with his pencil as he scanned for where he'd left off. "Punching faces in is not lashing out. Duly noted."

Bakugo was across the room in a split second, gripping Deku's uniform tightly as he pullled him half-way out of his chair. He couldn't help winding up his other arm. He wanted to deck one of those stupid green eyes so bad.

"Do you want to die, you piece of shit? What did I tell you about being a smartass?"

"No—Kacchan," Deku raised his hands defensively, but not enough to show he was game for a fight. "Just stop. I wasn't trying to provoke you at all this morning. I don't know why you're even madder than usual at me—"

Kacchan drew his arm back a touch further, the urge to punch him overwhelming.

"—and if you hit me right before class, pretty sure Aizawa or at least Iida will notice and bust us both..."

"You could always just say it happened during training." All Bakugo had to do was let his arm fly and the nerd would shut up.

"Except I was just talking with Iida a few minutes ago, so he'd probably know it's a lie..." Deku raised his brows a touch, hoping it was enough to defuse the situation.

Bakugo just sat there a moment, glowering.

"You're one annoying son of a bitch, you know that?" Bakugo said, lowering his arm and releasing Deku roughly.

Deku just adjusted his uniform and wisely chose to remain quiet. He picked up his pencil again and got right back to work.

Bakugo just glared at him. Why was it always so impossible to provoke the stupid nerd? He was such a pushover wuss.

"Tch," Bakugo spat out, turning for the bathroom and thinking how the nerd had better have cleared out of their room by the time he was done if he knew what was good for him.

* * *

After getting ready and stopping by the dining hall for a quick breakfast, Bakugo was still one of the first students to arrive at the classroom. He preferred to be early. It was easier to ignore the commotion when he didn't have to fight his way through it.

He crossed through the tall door etched with the giant '1-A' lettering and stepped inside, his stomach immediately seizing in anger.

His desk had been pulled back to line up side-by-side with Deku's.

...

Bakugo knew he shouldn't be surprised, really. It was like Kirishima had said the night before—Aizawa was a hardass.

Bakugo swallowed his rage and crossed the room, claiming the desk on the windows' side.

He could feel eyes on him. He dropped his bag, looking up to find the half'n'half bastard watching him with what Bakugo assumed was the beginning hints of a smirk.

"The hell are you looking at? You got something to say to me, Icy Hot?"

Half'n'Half blinked coolly, his eyes remaining on Bakugo, unintimidated. "No." His gaze drew away and then a moment later, returned. "Yes, actually," he said, still passive. "If Midoriya ever shows up to class with any mysterious burns or bruises, I'm going to make it a point to make sure Aizawa notices."

Bakugo blinked, his breath lodged somewhere half-way from his lungs. Had that freaky-eyed piece of shit really just said that to him?

He rose from his seat. "Oh, yeah?" He could hardly get the words out for seething. "The fuck are you, his keeper or some shit?"

Icy Hot didn't seem the least bit bothered by Bakugo drawing to his feet. "No. Just his friend. And like everyone else I can see how unfairly things have turned out for Midoriya ever since you lured him away and attacked him outside the dorms."

Bakugo was at Half'n'Half's desk now, nearly glaring literal fire as he looked down at him. He ignored the other students starting to filter in. "Is that what you think happened? You scar-faced freak, is that what you think happened?!"

"I know that's what happened," Icy Hot responded calmly, looking up at him unperturbed. "Midoriya can't be provoked into fighting, so either you threatened him or manipulated him to get him in that kind of trouble with you. Probably both."

Bakugo's hand shot out, gripping Half'n'Half's blazer in a death grip, ready to kill him on the spot. But there were too many kids around now, and Deku was suddenly there as well, wedging his way between them and pushing Bakugo back. And he vaguely noticed Kirishima had come out of nowhere and had a hand on his arm, too.

"Hey—hey, Kacchan, stop, what are you doing—"

"Take a breather, Bakugo, Aizawa's gonna be here any minute."

"Get the hell off! Don't touch me!" he spat at red and green hair, pulling his arm free as he released Icy Hot and turned away. "Deku," he said, livid, "tell your multi-colored watchdog to stay the hell away from me if he knows what's good for him."

He was glad he didn't have to see the unbearable wide-eyed look of puzzlement Deku was undoubtedly aiming between Half'n'Half and him. He was already back at his desk, chest heaving as he fought to calm down.

And he'd thought that morning couldn't possibly have gotten more annoying. Wrong again, he realized, as shitty Deku took a seat right next to him.

Ughhh.

The class lecture began and dragged on for much longer than it seemed to have any right to. Bakugo had to reach over and grip Deku's arm in a painful squeeze no less than three times to get his incessant mumbling to shut up. It was annoying as hell.

There was finally only about a half-hour of Aizawa's class left when a slip of paper landed on Deku's desk. Bakugo eyed it in annoyance and then grew even more annoyed that he'd even noticed it in the first place. He didn't want Deku's shitty business to distract him any further than it already had.

And then when Deku unfolded it, revealing a series of mismatched handwriting with Bakugo's name mentioned, he wasn't sure why it made him seethe as much as it did. What the hell was the shitty nerd spreading about him now?

It shouldn't have bothered him. He didn't give a shit what the extras thought of him. It was only because of Icy Hot's confrontation earlier, and Kirishima's concern for shitty Deku the previous night, and everyone sending him indignant looks anytime he caught their eyes on him, because apparently he was ruining the life of their precious _Deku_ —it was aggravating as hell! He wasn't the only one who had gone at it at Ground Beta! Deku, that bastard, had gone just as hard. He wasn't a victim here. He wasn't getting his ass stomped on and handed to him like he had in the past. He could handle it now, and all these shitty clowns should just mind their own business and shut the hell up, _goddamn._

He grabbed for the stupid note, but he forgot how much faster shitty Deku was now. It was slipped from his reach and immediately folded up again away from from him.

"What is that, _Deku_ , you piece of shit? Why is my name on it?" Bakugo said in a harsh whisper, leaning against Deku and grabbing for it.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it," Deku whispered back, holding it out of his reach.

"You're talking about me to all these shitty extras? Telling them how miserable your pathetic life is now? You son of a bitch," Bakugo made another grab for it, and Deku immediately tossed it away out of desperation.

The class had fallen silent as Aizawa paused, his attention falling on the side-by-side desks that had been knocked slightly askew in the brief tussle.

The note landed at the back of the aisle, near Icy Hot's feet.

Aizawa had no patience. "Todoroki?" he said shortly, eyeing the folded note on the floor. "Pick that up. Read it to the class."

Deku stared in horror. Bakugo turned back around, mildly shaking his head at Deku's unbelievable stupidity.

Icy Hot eyed the boys in front of him briefly before bending to pick it up. It was clear he really didn't want to. Some shithead—probably Kaminari—was already snickering.

Todoroki took a seat and began unfolding the paper with a resigned sigh.

"Stand, please," Aizawa instructed.

Todoroki slowly drew to his feet. He began in his usual monotone voice. "Hey, I'm bored. Me too. This is 'totes?'" he paused a moment, glancing up. "Mister Aizawa?" he asked, in as much of a pleading voice as his stoicism allowed. Did he really have to do this?

More brave laughter.

"Continue."

"This is 'totes' boring," Todoroki continued painfully. "Ha, did you see Bakugo and Midoriya's new set-up? Poor Midoriya. Oh my gosh, I know, he's such a cinnamon roll." Todoroki raised his eyes again, once more pleading with Aizawa.

More snickering.

"Go on."

"Oh, we should ask Sato to bake some cinnamon rolls later. Maybe we could take some to Midoriya to cheer him up," Todoroki paused again briefly, drawing another resigned breath. "Hi Deku, we heard about your new living situation, and we feel so sorry for you. How has it been going so far? Circle which best applies:  
bad,  
sucky,  
the worst ever,  
your soul is already fifty percent more dead than it was yesterday."

Several poorly-stifled laughs broke out at that. Bakugo hunched down over his desk, his shoulders quivering. Deku's face was practically buried in his arms.

Todoroki went on. "We want to bring you a treat later, but since you can't escape the lord explosion murder, maybe we could meet in the common room instead? We'll text you. Stay strong, friend."

Todoroki folded the note back up and sat down, his eyes on his desk.

The restrained giggling immediately died down as Aizawa centered himself at the front of the class.

He took a breath. "Anyone willing to claim ownership of that note? Or am I going to have to punish the entire class?"

Furtive glances were sent back and forth for a few moments before Ashido's arm and an invisible gloved hand tentatively lifted into the air.

"Ashido, Hagakure," Aizawa said, his no-nonsense gaze drifting between them. "You're to stay after class for twenty minutes and write me a five-hundred word essay on why the discussion and consideration of the medically-compromised citizen is, in fact, _not_ 'totes' boring."

Ashido's head dropped in shame, as did (everyone assumed) Hagakure's as well.

"And don't think I don't realize the only reason you're passing notes is out of fear of having your phones confiscated," Aizawa added, sternly. "If this happens again, I'm going to confiscate them anyway."

Bakugo was still mildly shaking in anger when the class was dismissed twenty minutes later. He was the first one out of his seat and out the door, and he didn't even notice Kirishima calling after him.

Lunch rolled around, and the theme of the day was still going strong: feeling more and more annoyed and shitty by the hour.

Bakugo slammed his tray on a lone table, far from everyone else, and hunched down over his food. He was still fuming. He didn't get embarrassed. Being the best at pretty much anything, he was fairly close to being physically incapable of feeling embarrassment. Why had that shitshow in class had him feeling so close to it, then?

Was it hearing solid evidence of how everyone and their dog preferred Deku to him? He already knew that though. And he didn't give a shit that they chose that idiot loser over him. They didn't matter.

No, he wasn't embarrassed. He was just angry. Angry that Deku continued to one-up him left and right ever since they'd arrived at UA. Ever since they'd applied for UA. Ever since their teacher at their shitty old middle school had even announced their mutual interest in UA.

"Shouldn't you be eating at Midoriya's table, Bakugo?"

Bakugo paused, fork midway to his mouth. He didn't bother glancing up. "Glasses, I swear to God, if you want to live to attend Present Mic's class today, you better get the hell away from me right now."

"It's okay, Iida," Deku was there. Of course he was, the bastard. Bakugo couldn't shake him. "I'll just sit over here," he said, heading to the opposite end of the table and setting his tray down. "This should still technically count as eating together, right?"

Bakugo's breathing was tight as he unwillingly eyed Deku, wishing he could just catch an effing break for once.

"Mm, I suppose," Iida reluctantly agreed. "I'll join you in a few," he said to Deku, turning to go get in line.

Bakugo didn't glance at Deku again. He stayed focused on his food, trying to forget the nerd was even in the same cafeteria as him, let alone at the same table. But that became more and more difficult to do once Round Face joined the shitty nerd, followed by Icy Hot and Tail and Frog and Jacked-up Ears and Bird Brain, and gah, he was done with this shit.

He was about to stand up and get the hell out of there when Kirishima sat down across from him, joined by Pikachu on his left and Tape on his right.

"Hey, Bakugo," Kirishima greeted him with a grin and his usual painfully cheerful voice. Why was that idiot always in a good mood? It was infuriating.

"Oh man, that was hilarious," Kaminari said next to him, as usual without any preface as to what the hell he was talking about. "Katsuki the killer of souls," he laughed. "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

Bakugo gave him a sidelong glare. Since when the hell had Sparky grown so daring? He'd kill that off-brand Pokemon idiot.

"Yeah, it might be funnier if it wasn't Midoriya's soul in question," Tape added from his other side. "Midoriya's a solid dude. You should try to lay off him a bit, Bakugo."

Bakugo was shaking again, trying his hardest to keep from blowing the table and everyone at it to unidentifiable smithereens.

Kirishima must have noticed. "Guys," he said, eyeing the two across from him meaningfully. "Why don't you drop it for now? This hasn't exactly been easy for Bakugo either, you know." He paused a moment as Bakugo met his eyes with a challenge. "I mean, being shut in with your longtime childhood rival and all," he clarified.

Bakugo snorted derisively. "Longtime childhood rival? More like longtime childhood thorn in my fucking side," he sneered. "He's not my fucking rival."

The others shared a wary look before turning to glance at Deku a moment, smiling his goddamn stupid, careless grin at something Roundface had just said; oblivious to the fact people might be talking about him. Oblivious like he always was.

"He...sure seems to be," Kirishima offered, just a hint timidly.

Bakugo whipped his head to glare at him, daring him to go on.

"I mean," Kirishima explained quickly, "Yaoyorozu's the one actually ranked first in the class, and Todoroki's the one who kinda screwed you over in the sport's festival," he took a breath, quickly adding, "which, by the way, wasn't anything against you at all—"

"Shut up, Shitty Hair," Bakugo cut him off. He didn't give a shit for the reasoning behind Icy Hot's wussing out on him during their showdown at the festival. And he wasn't about to forgive him for it.

"And, dude," Kirishima was still talking for some foolish reason. "Todoroki was the only other one apart from me who was adamant about going after you in Kamino Ward. Him and Midoriya."

"Hey—" Kaminari broke in a moment, reddening slightly. "I was for it, too—I just—"

"We were all worried..." Sero added tentatively at the same time.

"Shut up!" Bakugo cut in again, wondering why the hell Kirishima found it so imperative to defend Icy Hot, and daring him to keep talking about it. "I don't give a shit about that Half'n'Half bastard."

"Yeah," Kirishima cut in again. "I can tell." He was studying Bakugo for a brief moment. "It's Midoriya you've marked as your main competition," and then added thoughtfully, "Why?" He paused again a brief moment. "It's more than a childhood grudge."

"Haven't you idiots been paying attention?" Bakugo asked as if they were mentally inept. "Haven't you noticed how fast he's been progressing? How often his techniques advance and change? How much more of a handle on his goddamn quirk he gains every goddamn week?"

The others glanced between themselves again. Bakugo huffed at their stupidity.

"Honestly," Bakugo added, fed up, "if you idiots don't pay attention to shit like this, you're never going to get anywhere."

"Well, you know," Kirishima said, still thinking everything through. "His quirk's still unidentifiable," he suggested.

"Yeah, he got it late," Kaminari added, shrugging. "Maybe it still hasn't fully developed and it keeps manifesting itself differently, or something. Maybe Midoriya's still learning about it as well."

Bakugo scowled at them. Had it really taken them this long to come up with that?

"You know," Sero added, his voice dropping a fraction. "We've heard the comparisons to All Might before, but Midoriya's quirk really is weirdly similar to how All Might started out," his voice was growing a little eager. "You don't think there might actually really be some sort of relation—"

"Stop right there, Elbows." Bakugo cut in immediately, his voice firm, offering no room for objection.

"What?" Sero asked, a little put-out at being interrupted. "You're the one who's all about noticing stuff and connecting dots. I would think you'd be the most curious about the All Might compari—"

"Just shut up about it, alright?" Bakugo interrupted again, his voice growing heated.

"Geez, jealous much?" Kaminari snickered, taking a bite of his food.

Bakugo gave him A Look. "Did you _want_ to go back to class with a fork lodged in your trachea, Pika-douchebag?"

Kirishima couldn't help grinning as Sero laughed.

"...No," Kaminari replied through a mouthful.

"I'm not _jealous_ , you goddamn moron," Bakugo said, trying to keep his heart rate from picking up as much as it was.

"Mmhm," Kaminari hummed around his food, unconvinced. God, that kid had gotten ballsy lately.

"I knew you guys were idiots," Bakugo went on, "but I didn't think you were stupid enough to actually put any stock into such a lame-ass rumor," he spat. And then muttered a moment later, "Stupidest rumor I ever effing heard of."

Bakugo's breathing was still harsher than it should have been. He shouldn't have cared about the All Might comparisons. It really had no right being any of his business whatsoever. He didn't effing care. And yet there he found himself immediately trying to squash out any mention of the rumors before they even had a chance to be spoken. What, was he suddenly helping that goddamn nerd out? Protecting his secret? Goddammit, no, he wasn't. He would never help that goddamn idiot.

And yet, the thoughts of all the possible repercussions wouldn't stop whispering at the back of his mind. If the truth got out, All Might would be in deep shit for putting so much responsibility and pressure on the shoulders of a kid. And Deku...shitty Deku would be extremely vulnerable at his young age and with his limited grasp of the power. Who knew what sort of unwanted attention he'd immediately draw as soon as the truth got out? It would be a nightmare and an absolute mess.

Goddammit! Why did Bakugo have to go prying in the first place? This was what happened when you went sticking your nose where it didn't belong. You got stuck with a shitton of responsibilities that you should never have had anything to do with in the first place. Effing hell.

"But, I mean, if you really think about it—" Sero ventured again tentatively.

"Drop it, Tape." Bakugo said, his voice taking on a familiar dangerous edge. It meant he was done talking.

Bakugo noticed another cautious look get passed between them.

He exhaled sharply, thoroughly annoyed, and stood to go dump his tray, his appetite gone.

* * *

The afternoon wore on in similar shitty fashion, and when evening finally and thankfully took its place, Bakugo went out to a run a few laps around campus to clear his head, showered, ate, and found himself alone in Deku's shitty dorm room for once. Maybe he could finally get a decent homework session in.

Bakugo tried his hardest to stay focused on his work in front of him. He tried his best not to think about his friends' speculation surrounding Deku. And he really attempted to ignore the nagging thoughts of what would happen if Deku was found out. Why the hell should he care? It was All Might's fault for choosing a wimpy loser like Deku, who couldn't keep his damn mouth shut. And it was Deku's fault for thinking his useless self might actually be capable of harnessing All Might's powers. It was all such a load of shit. They were both idiots.

Still though, Bakugo couldn't keep back the nagging reminder that he had promised. He'd promised All Might he'd help keep their secret under wraps. Why had he gone and done such a stupid thing like that? He didn't care who the hell found out about them. It wasn't his goddamn business.

But even so, they were trusting him now. Holding him to it. Bakugo didn't give a shit about helping either one of them, but he'd be damned if his word didn't mean anything.

He'd stay quiet. He'd keep attempting to throw off any curiosity aimed their way. He wouldn't like it, but he'd still do it. It really would be a shitshow if the truth got out, and Bakugo didn't want anything to do with that.

He sighed, tapping his pencil a few times and trying to get back down to goddamn work.

It was a little after 9:30 when Deku finally showed up. Apparently he'd been wasting what could have been productive study time down in the common area.

"Hey," Deku greeted him uncertainly, closing the door behind him. Bakugo didn't turn to look at him. He came in and shrugged his blazer off. The silence must have been a little uncomfortable, or he just felt like talking for some idiotic reason, or something. "You get some good studying in?" he asked.

Bakugo released a short breath through his nose. "Better than you. I don't know why any of you assholes attempt to get any work done down there."

"Heh, yeah, I guess it's not the quietest of places for homework..."

Bakugo just kept writing away, ignoring him.

"Uh, you probably don't care, but there were a few of Sato's sweet rolls left over, and he said they don't keep very well, so I—I brought one up. In case, you know, you might want it..." He had made his way to their desks and set a plate down on the edge of his.

Bakugo didn't lift his head, just eyed it a moment before going back to writing. "I don't eat that shit."

"Oh. I—I figured that might be the case..."

Bakugo tossed his pencil down, sitting up and half-turning to face the nerd. "What do you want?"

Deku was rubbing the back of his neck, looking anxious and stupid, like always. He avoided Bakugo's questioning gaze, dropping his bag at the foot of his chair.

"Oh, uh," Deku sounded a little surprised that Bakugo immediately knew something was up. But stupid Deku could be easier to read than the top line of an eye exam chart, at times. At others, often trickier than the bottom line. Bakugo hated those times.

"I just...I'm just...sorry about earlier," Deku finally spat out, undoing his button-down and pulling a shirt and sweats from his drawers. He might have had the guts to say it, but not to face Bakugo at the same time.

Bakugo scoffed, twisting further in his chair. "You're _sorry?_ " he hissed. "You think I give a shit what any of those extras think about me? About what _you_ think of me?" he demanded, furious.

"No—" Deku cut in quickly, pulling his tee-shirt down in place. "It's just—I just...I know what it's like to feel...I dunno, alone, I guess."

Bakugo was trying to keep his shoulders from heaving. "Of course you do, you fucking idiot. You've been a worthless, friendless loser your entire life. You're the go-to expert on the subject," he spat.

Why in the _hell_ was _Deku_ offering him pity? His blood was pounding. And it felt heated as hell.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I _want_ to be alone, you goddamn moron? That maybe I'm not alone _enough_ in this goddamn place? Goddammit, get the hell out of here with your ' _sorry_ ,' you goddamn piece of shit."

Deku was sitting on the edge of his bed now, staring at his phone's blank screen on his lap. "Sorry—" he said quietly. "I wasn't trying to make you mad. I just...I dunno..."

"What?" Bakugo demanded, hating Deku's infuriating habit of not finishing sentences.

Deku hesitated before answering. Likely weighing whether or not it was worth getting the shit beat out of him over. "Even if you do choose to be alone, that still can't make it...not suck...at times..."

Bakugo's breath was heaving enough to nearly hurt his chest. "Listen, you stupid son of a bitch, just because the extras haven't caught on to the fact that you're a useless waste of space with nothing but delusions you parade around as aspirations—doesn't mean they won't sooner or later—"

Bakugo knew he was likely inching dangerously close to the line of drawing tears with that, and that was the absolute last thing he wanted to deal with at the moment. But for some reason he just couldn't stop. The goddamn nerd had practically been _begging_ to be put back in his place lately.

"So stop fooling yourself into thinking you have some sort of pathetic experience in the _friendship_ department—especially when it comes to us. We're not _friends_ , Deku," Bakugo's eyes were fire as he stared Deku down. "We never have been, and we never will be. And if you ever make me remind you of that fact again, I'll beat it into your skull so hard you won't ever be able to forget it..." He took another shaky, fuming breath. "Aizawa may be forcing this piss-poor charade for the time being, but it doesn't mean shit."

Deku just sat there a moment, still staring down at his blank phone, still unmoving.

Bakugo just stared, breathing heavily.

Finally, Deku offered a subtle nod, neither raising his eyes or saying anything.

"What, are you gonna cry now?" Bakugo challenged, the heat behind his voice replaced by a sneer.

Deku silently offered a faint shake of his head, despite his eyes suddenly shimmering in the lamplight. He slowly pulled his legs up and under his covers, turning as far away as he could and burying himself against his pillow.

Bakugo merely watched him a moment, the harsh rise and fall of his chest a hint more painful than it had been a moment ago.

"Goddammit, Deku, are you crying?!" Bakugo pressed. "You're sixteen now, for God's sake, when the hell are you going to grow out of that useless, chickenshit, goddamn _girl_ habit?" he demanded.

...

"What, you're not talking to me now?"

...

"Tch. Fine. See if I care. Moron."

He turned back to his studies, but he knew any attempts at concentrating would be futile. He was too worked up. He was too upset. He was too agitated...

And goddammit, Deku's quiet sniffling was making his stomach feel...not entirely pleasant, if he was being honest.

Ugghhh.

That asshole.

He could cry all he wanted, Bakugo didn't give a shit.

...

"Will you just say something, asshole?"

...

Deku sniffed and coughed, and Bakugo looked over to him...somewhat expectant? No, not expectant. What the hell? He didn't give a damn if the shitty nerd stayed silent for the rest of the night. For the rest of eternity, for that matter. It was a welcome change for once.

"Look," Deku finally broke the tense silence, his voice thick and shaky. "All I was trying to do was be nice," he explained through slightly hiccuping breaths. It sounded a little ridiculous. "Not commit you to a lifetime of friendship. I know how you feel about me, Kacchan. I've always known, and I promise you I couldn't forget it if I tried..." He sniffed and struggled to swallow, continuing. "I was just worried you might have felt bad about the things that were said earlier. That's all."

Bakugo was on his feet and across the room, roughly grasping Deku's shoulder and forcing him around to look at him. "Don't. Do. That." It was difficult to get out with how tight his teeth were clenched.

Deku's eyes were bloodshot and startled. He attempted to raise his arms, but they were tangled in his blankets. "What?"

"Don't ever offer me your pity, Deku." Bakugo stated in no uncertain terms. Deku started to reply but Bakugo pressed his hand solidly over his face, cutting off his voice and squeezing maybe a little tighter than he might have meant to. "No—shut up," he said, as he cut Deku off. "Don't ever assume I feel 'bad' about anything, because I don't. I don't ever. Do you understand that?"

Deku could only nod, a hint of pain pinching his brow slightly. Bakugo stared at him a moment longer before finally releasing him. He hated the way Deku was looking back at him just then. It was making his stomach twinge again.

Bakugo dropped down to the floor with a resigned sort of sigh.

A long and heavy-laden moment passed before he finally spoke. "I promise I don't care that the extras prefer you over me," he stated. "It doesn't get to me. So don't let it get to you." He paused another beat before adding, "All right?"

He wasn't facing Deku, but he could practically feel how the nerd merely blinked at him in bewilderment.

That was enough sappy shit for the evening. For the year, really. Bakugo didn't say anything more, just slowly drew to his feet and made for the bathroom, glimpsing the lone cinnamon roll sitting untouched at his desk on the way. The sight of it made his stomach clench again for some unknown reason.

The day had been shit and it was past time for bed. And...he was tired.

* * *

 **Wowie, these boys still have so much to talk about...**

 **And Bakugo... He's just angry. As you know. He doesn't _really_ mean hardly anything that comes out of his mouth. And he doesn't even realize that, either.**


	4. Eavesdroppin' in the Library

It took a long time for Izuku to fall asleep that night.

His short, staccato breaths had evened out a while ago, and his eyes didn't even feel all that puffy anymore. But still, sleep kept its distance.

He really hadn't meant to let Kacchan's words get to him. Not to the point of tears, at least. He thought he was done with that. It was embarrassing and unnecessary. Granted, Kacchan wasn't by any means a stranger to his tears—being the cause of them more often than not throughout their childhood. But he was determined to show Kacchan he'd grown. He was stronger now. Kacchan's words didn't hold as much weight as they used to. Didn't cut as deeply.

But even so, all he could hear whenever he shut his eyes against his pillow was the cruel echo of what had been said.

 _"...you're a useless waste of space with nothing but delusions you parade around as aspirations..."_

Why had that gotten to him so bad? He knew Kacchan likely hadn't actually meant to throw out something hurtful enough to drive him to tears, and he was mad at himself that it had. It's just, it had hit a little too close to home with his current struggles and self doubts. Kacchan had always been good at that—fishing out Izuku's current weaknesses and soft spots and exploiting them by hitting them hard.

Was Izuku delusional? Were his goals and aspirations merely delusions of grandeur? Had he been a complete fool to believe he might actually be capable and worthy of making One For All his own? Of chasing after the position of Number One Hero, and giving everything he had in order to fill the impossibly large vacancy left by All Might?

Kacchan certainly seemed to think he was a fool, but did that mean everyone else would as well, if they knew the truth? Had he really been chasing after false hopes and dreams all this time? Had All Might wasted his gift on such a wrong and weak successor? Did he wish he had chosen differently? Someone more like Kacchan?

No. That couldn't be right. All Might had chosen him when he had literally nothing. When he had _been_ literally nothing. If All Might hadn't regretted his choice in the beginning, there was no way he could be regretting it now. Izuku had come so far since then. He'd worked so hard. He wasn't the same boy that had desperately clung to All Might's legs with nothing but teary wishes and hopeful suppositions all that time ago. He was making One For All his own. And it was becoming his more and more everyday. He was showing potential. He knew he was.

No, Kacchan was merely fighting a little dirty psychologically. And maybe he didn't even realize it. Maybe he just felt threatened to the point of lashing out blindly, without any real awareness of the effects his words might have.

Or maybe he was as malicious as he sounded and he really had meant every word of it. But...Izuku didn't really think so. He'd seen very brief snippets of humanity in Kacchan before. And he could be wrong...but it nearly sounded as if Kacchan had almost shown the faintest hints of remorse after what he'd said. Or at least as close to faint hints of remorse as Kacchan was capable of. Izuku knew he would never show true remorse. He probably wasn't even able to _feel_ true remorse. But the way he'd prodded Izuku to stop crying and talk to him had definitely not been like the Kacchan he was familiar with. Even if he still hadn't exactly been nice about it.

But actually, in all fairness...what had Kacchan's display at Ground Beta been, if not an example of true remorse? Kacchan had been broken up. Overwhelmed with guilt over his supposed cause of All Might's downfall. He hadn't been able to handle it, and didn't know how to process or deal with all the pent up emotion from dwelling on it. That had been the first real showing of Kacchan's hidden humanity. And Izuku could still hardly believe he'd been the one Kacchan had turned to with it. He'd been the only one Kacchan could turn to with it.

It almost gave Izuku a sense of responsibility for Kacchan, in some way. Not that they were friends, or anything near it. No, Kacchan had made that very clear. But Kacchan did carry more with him than just anger. There was a lot more to him he kept hidden. And Izuku would likely continue to be the only person whom Kacchan might reveal those buried emotions to. Not intentionally, Izuku was certain of that, but because of their newfound shared knowledge and trust regarding All Might and One For All. Even so though, Izuku would try his best to be there for Kacchan when he needed to vent. Even if he knew how Kacchan's 'venting' would usually undoubtedly go.

Dealing with Kacchan was like...well, it was kind of like trying to defuse a literal bomb, almost. Like those scenes in movies where the main guy is faced with the dilemma of which wire to cut, while a countdown stares him in the face, getting nearer and nearer to 00:00. That was like Kacchan. Should Izuku say this or not say this? Should he cut this wire or that one? He never knew. And more often than not, Kacchan exploded no matter what he did. It was nerve-wracking and exhausting, but Izuku liked to think he was at least getting a little better at handling it. At least getting a little more used to being around him so much.

Regardless though, Izuku knew Kacchan at least took him more seriously now. Their match at Ground Beta had shown him that. Kacchan's desperation at how close he'd come to losing. His quiet acceptance of All Might's confession. His nod to Izuku being the 'chosen one...'

Kacchan saw him as a true rival now. There couldn't be any doubt of that. And Izuku had to live up to Kacchan's newfound expectations of him. And not just live up to them, but surpass them.

Right, then. No more crying. Not ever in front of Kacchan, at least. Kacchan was right; it was a pointless habit he should have outgrown by now. Granted, he couldn't really help having a much higher emotional capacity than Kacchan, or pretty much anyone else in their class. But he could learn to get a better handle on it. And he would. It would be vital in his efforts to talk to Kacchan in the future. And there was still so much Izuku knew he had to talk to him about. Or at least attempt, anyway. He was pretty certain any attempts at conversation would only end up unintentionally provoking Kacchan, but they couldn't get anywhere if he didn't at least try.

He rolled over and pulled his pillow closer. Ugh, why couldn't he just stop thinking already? He needed to sleep.

He could hear Kacchan's even breathing across the room, and he flipped over again with a faint and slightly envious huff.

He tossed and turned. He got up to get a drink. He got up again to pee. He went back to trying to shut his brain off. It was no good. Sleep wouldn't come.

Finally, glancing at his phone at 12:47 am, Deku decided to switch his alarm off, grateful he had the option since the following day was Saturday. It would be pointless trying to function on five hours of sleep or less.

He wasn't sure when exactly sleep finally claimed him, but it felt like hardly any time passed at all before he was drawn back to awareness by the sound of his bedroom door opening and closing, followed by a loud voice.

"What the hell? Why are you still asleep?"

Izuku groaned faintly and stretched as much as his fatigued body allowed, trying to ease himself from sleep's unrelenting grasp. He rolled over to meet Kacchan's gaze, his eyes blinking heavily.

"The hell's wrong with you?" Kacchan asked, stepping further inside and heading to his desk.

Izuku stretched again, choosing not to reply through a yawn. He reached for his phone. 8:19 am. Dang, the morning was pretty much wasted.

Kacchan had turned his attention away, pulling his bag up on his chair and loading it with books.

Izuku sat up, running a hand through his hair, and rubbing a bleary eye. He stared at the floor and yawned again. Waking up was hard sometimes.

"You sick or some shit?" Kacchan hadn't turned back to address him. He was still piling study materials into his bag.

"No..." Izuku's voice had finally decided to be somewhat functional. "Just...didn't sleep well last night..."

Kacchan eyed him out of the corner of his eye a moment but didn't respond.

"What's that?" Izuku asked after a moment, pointing vaguely. Kacchan had been carrying a bowl with him which now sat on his desk in front of him.

Kacchan released a short breath through his nose, as if annoyed Izuku had noticed. "My leftovers," he responded shortly.

"Mm," Izuku hummed, noncommittally. He scrubbed a hand through his hair again, finally feeling more awake.

Kacchan seemed a little averse to continuing, but he did so anyway. "I made too much food, and none of the other lazy-ass extras were up and around to eat the rest of it, and it's good as hell so I didn't want to throw it away."

Was Kacchan suggesting what Izuku thought he might be...? He'd have to be careful with how he approached this, if that was the case. Stick with noncommittal, he decided.

"I'll eat it," Izuku shrugged. And then quickly added a moment later, "...If no one else is going to."

Kacchan zipped his bag closed, and after a moment, muttered, "Fine, whatever."

Izuku pushed himself to his feet and stepped over to grab the bowl. "Thanks," he said, climbing back on his bed.

Kacchan looked to him sharply, studying him a brief moment. "Don't go misinterpreting this as some sort of lame-ass peace offering or some shit, you stupid nerd," he warned. "Because I'll throw that shit in the trash right now."

Izuku snorted around a mouthful, lowering the chopsticks. He chewed a moment while Kacchan glared at him. "Nah, I know your cooking's just too good to waste," he offered.

Kacchan watched him a second longer, apparently deliberating whether to be mad or not. He finally dropped his gaze and shouldered his bag. "You're goddamn right it is."

Kacchan turned for the closet and pulled out a hoodie while Izuku went back to his breakfast hungrily. It really was good.

"Listen," Kacchan said, draping his sweatshirt over his arm. "I plan to get caught up on the rest of my shit today, and I don't want to be bothered."

Izuku just chewed, listening.

"So if Four Eyes gets on our case for not studying and shit together today, just, I dunno, deal with him, okay?"

Izuku swallowed. "'Kay, that's fine," he offered. And then added, "Did you already train?"

Kacchan tilted his head in annoyance at him. "Of course I did, you idiot, it's practically lunch time already. I don't know where the hell you get off thinking you can just waste the weekend effing sleeping. Moron," he muttered.

Izuku glanced down before continuing somewhat hesitantly. "We should maybe...try to train together tomorrow," he suggested. And then quickly added, "Before Iida says anything to Aizawa..."

Kacchan had a hand on the door, but turned his head to afford him one more annoyed look. "Yeah, maybe, whatever. I'm all for any chance to kick your ass." He pulled the door open. "You'll have to get your goddamn lazy ass out of bed though, 'cause I'm not starting later than six."

"Right," Izuku said, dropping his gaze as he idly poked at his food.

Kacchan closed the door behind him, and Izuku sat staring at it for a long moment.

Okay...what just happened?

Had Kacchan...actually felt bad about the previous night enough to attempt to make up for it with breakfast? Is that what just happened there? ...Because it sure...kinda seemed that way. Despite Kacchan's impressive efforts at playing it off like it was nothing.

Okay, so maybe Kacchan hadn't outright offered Izuku breakfast, exactly. But he had brought the extra food into the room without any intent to eat it himself, and with the clear idea and expectation that Izuku would be more than willing to.

That...kind of counted as bringing Izuku breakfast. Right?

What the heck?

Okay, so Kacchan was surprisingly capable of rare and unexpected moments of borderline niceness. And now that Izuku really thought about it, he'd actually seen snippets of it before. He recalled their first day of arriving at the dorms—how everyone had been feeling really down after all the rule breaking surrounding Kamino Ward. Aizawa had really laid into them, and Kacchan had felt...guilty? Guilty that so much trouble centered around him? Kacchan had felt bad. Izuku was sure he had seen it. The way Kacchan had pulled Kamanari aside to trigger his quirk overload. Just for the sake of making everyone else laugh and to lighten the mood. And how he'd insisted Kirishima accept his money to replace what was spent on his rescue, with the offhand comment that he wouldn't be in his debt anymore.

It had been...thoughtful. Kacchan was capable of thoughtfulness. Granted, Izuku knew Kacchan would kill him on the spot if he ever actually voiced or even hinted at any of these observations, but still, that didn't lessen their validity.

If Kacchan was going to continue offering rare moments of actual borderline-niceness, then Izuku was going to have to be very careful with how he accepted it. If he pointed it out, or made it obvious that Kacchan was being anything less than hostile, he knew it would backfire immediately. If he played along like he didn't realize Kacchan might actually be trying, it _might_ be possible for them to eventually get somewhere. Maybe. There was hope, at least.

Izuku eyed the dish in his lap once more, a muscle tugging at his mouth ever so slightly. It really was good.

* * *

Bakugo was glad he didn't encounter anyone as he made his way to the library nearest their home room. It would be quiet there. He'd be alone. For once. And he'd have as long as he needed to finish all his shitty catch-up work and finally get back to his normal study schedule.

He pulled out a chair at one of the round tables in the far corner and sat with a slightly exasperated sigh. It wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend his Saturday, but it would be a relief to finally get caught up and not be stressed about his work load so much anymore.

He got his books out and pulled his hoodie on, letting the hood stay in place as he tugged it down over his shirt.

He was a little surprised and relieved that shitty Deku had somehow managed not to piss him off too bad that morning. It was a lot easier to concentrate when he wasn't seething with annoyance at Deku's latest display of infuriating stupidity. The shitty nerd hadn't even mentioned anything about the previous night. Perhaps the idiot was finally learning he was slightly more tolerable when he actually kept his trap shut.

But why the hell did that bastard have to cry so much still? He was way too old for that shit. And Bakugo hadn't even really been aiming for tears. If he'd let the stupid nerd really have it, he'd hate to think of the extent of waterworks he'd have to deal with.

Maybe Bakugo was losing a little bit of his touch, but he seemed to remember making shitty Deku cry being a lot more satisfying in the past. Yeah, he'd been dying to put the idiot back in his place last night, but why did his stomach seem to clench just a little bit tighter the more biting his words became?

God, why was he even wondering about any of this shit? The fact that he was thinking about any of it alone made him want to punch something. Really hard.

He didn't give a shit that stupid Deku couldn't keep himself from crying at the drop of a hat. Not when Deku realized how delusional and friendless he was. Not when All Might spoke to him through the media, telling him the burden of One For All was his alone now. Not when his stupid effing quirk broke his stupid effing bones because he possessed literally zero self-preservation skills. Not when Bakugo shoved him down time and time again, demanding he stop following him.

Bakugo couldn't care less.

Why in the hell was he dwelling on it, then?

He let out another irritated sigh. It had to be because of All Might. Because of what All Might had said to him when he'd pulled him aside that night after the Ground Beta incident. He didn't want to recall the words right then, but they kept coming back to him, whether he wanted them to or not. He wished he could forget them all together...

 _"...Young Bakugo, could I have a quick word with you before you leave for bed?"_

 _"...What do you want?"_

 _"I know I don't have any right to your discretion, and I'm so grateful for how freely and generously you've offered it."_

 _"Yeah, whatever... Just tell me what you want so I can go."_

 _"I...hesitate to ask this of you...especially in light of yours and Midoriya's history being brought to the forefront as fiercely as it was tonight..."_

 _"Just get to the point, goddamn."_

 _"...I know it's unfair that I'm requesting this of you...but, I want to ask you to attempt to shoulder some of this burden with Midoriya."_

 _"...What?"_

 _"In any way you see fit. It's an unfair and impossibly daunting burden I've placed on him. And you're the only of his peers who knows. The only one capable of understanding what he's going through; of helping him get to where he needs to be—to become who he needs to become."_

 _..._

 _"—Why in the hell would you—I don't even—"_

 _"You don't have to provide me with an answer, Young Bakugo. Just think on it, please. And...look after him... I can't always be there... And, my powers..."_

 _..._

 _"...Well, anyway. Thank you, Young Bakugo. You're shaping up to be just the hero I expect of you. ...You're free to go now."_

Uggghhh. Why in the _hell_ had All Might said any of that shit to him?! And why the hell was he recalling it now? This was such bullshit. He shouldn't be thinking about anything but his goddamn homework.

Fucking Deku. Screw that goddamn piece-of-shit-son-of-a-bitch.

Why in the hell had All Might said all that to him? _Especially_ when he knew about his and Deku's background? What, did All Might actually think Bakugo was capable of just tossing all that shit aside?

...Did he actually really think Bakugo was capable of tossing it all aside..?

No one else would have thought him capable of such nonsense. Why would All Might?

...Was it because All Might thought he was so freaking smart—that he could see things in people others couldn't? Things they might not even be able to see themselves?

No. It was all such bullshit. Screw All Might for thinking any of that. That sanctimonious bastard. And screw him for thinking effing Deku needed help in any way. The useless loser had gotten this far on his own just fine. Although technically not exactly on his own—he'd had All Might in his corner all along, just as Bakugo had suspected.

Bakugo wasn't about to help that bastard become a better hero than him. No fucking way.

Bakugo's frame may have taken on a slight quiver as he bent back over his work. He shoved all his aggravations to the back of his mind as hard as he could. They could rot there for all he cared, he wasn't going to let them distract him like this anymore.

Bakugo was still silently fuming, but he somehow managed to get a couple solid hours of focusing in.

And then of course, out of nowhere, he heard the one last voice in the entire world he ever wanted to hear again. Of _course_ he did. He was a fool to think he could get an effing break from the effing nerd for even half a day.

He wasn't facing the entrance of the library, so he didn't see Deku enter. But he could hear him. Talking just a little too loud and being just a little too oblivious, like always. Bakugo was suddenly grateful for his hood as he leaned down lower over his homework. For some reason, he didn't want the shitty nerd to notice him. He wanted to just pretend the idiot wasn't there. That he didn't even exist at all...

"—should just tell Aizawa it's too much. I mean, you really did draw the short straw with this whole thing. Everyone knows it's Bakugo that has the problem out of the two of you, not you." It was effing Roundface he was with. Of course it was. Their voices were coming from behind a row of books off to his side.

Of course they were talking about him. Bakugo seethed hot as hell as he slumped down further over his books. It was taking everything in him not to blow the table away on the spot.

"Nah, I'm not gonna say anything. It's fine—I mean, it's nothing new. It's just how he is—I got used to it years ago. You know Kacchan and I grew up together?"

"Yeah, I knew. I think everyone knows by now. ...Was he always that way—so angry and hateful?"

They were moving a little further down the aisle, searching for a book or something. Bakugo almost wished they would notice him so he'd have an excuse to blow them both away where they stood.

"Pretty much. Well...no, actually. ...Kacchan would probably deny it, but we actually used to be good friends when we were really little. Our moms got us together all the time since we lived close." There was a reflective pause. "Kacchan was actually a really cool little kid... He was a lot of fun to tag along with...playing heroes and raving about All Might..."

Bakugo was certain someone might think he was having a goddamn seizure or something with how hard he was trying not to shake.

"What happened?"

"Hm?"

"With your friendship, I mean? Why did he start...I dunno, being so mean to you?"

They were moving around another bend of books but Bakugo could still hear them. Too well.

"I don't know, really." Another pause. "Well, I mean, I do. Of course I do. Kacchan got a quirk and I didn't."

"...That's all?"

"Yeah, well, I think I started annoying him early on, being so fascinated by his quirk and all. But really, what five year old kid could resist being in awe over a quirk like that? I mean, even now, who can resist it, regardless of age—?"

Bakugo's jaw was starting to hurt from how tightly his teeth were grinding. He heard the nerd shrug. "It's an awesome quirk. Kacchan knew it, and he knew everyone else knew it, and I dunno, it might have got to his head a little bit..?"

Bakugo clenched his fists even tighter. Don't spark. Don't spark. Don't spark.

"I'm not blaming him at all. He was just a little kid; we were both just little kids. But...yeah. ...My quirk never developed till way later, and I don't think Kacchan wanted anything to do with a quirkless kid."

Goddamn his stomach for twinging just then. Bakugo tried again to still his quivering shoulders but couldn't.

"Prejudiced, huh?"

"Well, like I said...he was just a little kid. Kids don't understand stuff like that. And his parents weren't that way, from what I remember of them, so I think it was more he just personally didn't like me, and I wasn't able to fight back. ...I was a pretty easy target, honestly."

"Mm..."

"But, it's not like it's nearly as bad as it used to be." A short, almost self-deprecating laugh. "I mean, at least he's not telling me to jump off the roof anymore."

Bakugo's insides might as well have just taken a hit from Half'n'Half's right side at how quickly they froze and seized up at that.

A short intake of breath. "Oh my gosh, did he really say that to you?! When? How old were you guys?"

"Ah..." Deku trailed off a moment, seeming to regret mentioning it. "Well, you know, I don't think he actually _meant_ it..."

"Why didn't you report him?! To a teacher, or, or someone! Anyone."

Why in the hell was every rigid breath he was drawing stinging so goddamn much?

"Well..." He could still hear Deku trying to backtrack. "Teachers can't really do a whole lot... And I was fine...I mean, yeah, I wasn't exactly _happy_ during those years, but I never would have considered hurting myself... I still, I dunno...had dreams of being a hero, and hoped that things would eventually get better—which, I mean, look! They did."

A pause.

"...You still should have reported him."

Another shorter pause. "Nah, I couldn't."

"...Why?"

A resigned sort of breath. "I didn't want to affect Kacchan's chances of getting into UA at all."

They were both quiet at that, and the silence of a library had never felt so heavy to Bakugo before.

"Even when we were little, I always knew Kacchan would go far. That he was meant to go far. And I always wanted to see for myself just how far he would end up going. ...I _still_ want to see how far he'll go. I mean, despite everything."

...

"...You're a good friend, Deku."

A mild snort. "Just don't ever let Kacchan hear that..." Another pause, the subject finally changing. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Right here. We can go, sorry."

They left, and Bakugo stayed hunched over his homework for a long time afterwards, neither looking at it or moving at all.

* * *

The rest of the day passed more productively for Izuku than the morning had. He studied with Iida and Ochako, studied again by himself, and ate his meals with a small group of friends in the dining hall, swapping laughs and stories.

He vaguely wondered where Kacchan had been spending the day. He hadn't seen him at all. He must have been off hiding somewhere, making some serious progress on his homework. He was a little surprised Iida hadn't asked about him yet.

The evening rolled around, and the night settling in saw the common room alight with activity.

Izuku had claimed a spot on the main couch and was idly browsing through his phone while a series of squabbles continued around him.

"Please can we do a rom com?"

"No, Ashido, that crappy movie you guys picked last week was a total chick flick, when you swore it wasn't."

"Weren't you paying attention? They didn't even end up together! Who ever heard of a chick flick where they don't even—"

"It was still dumb as hell. Ojiro, what are you and Shoji looking at?"

"Ooh, Sato, what've you got there?"

"Ow, Charge Dolt, move over—!"

Kaminari scooted right next to Izuku, with Jiro on his other side. Ochako had taken up residence on the smaller couch between to Yaoyorozu and Tsu.

Ten noisy minutes passed, and it almost seemed like they were getting a little closer to finally agreeing on a movie when Kacchan suddenly spoke up out of nowhere. Izuku hadn't even noticed him enter the common area.

"Deku." Kacchan was standing back a ways behind the couches.

The room fell silent at his voice. It was lined by a more dangerous edge than Izuku could recall hearing in a while.

Izuku turned his gaze and was immediately taken aback by the smoldering fury he saw behind Kacchan's glare. His brows rose, questioning. They'd had a relatively civil morning, and he hadn't seen Kacchan since. What was up?

"Do you have anything to say to me, asshole?" Kacchan's voice was low and gutteral, hinting at a barely restrained rage. The heavy rise and fall of his chest was too noticeable.

"Uhh..." Izuku briefly glanced around the group, wondering if anyone else might have some faint idea of what Kacchan was getting at. He was at a loss, himself.

"Do you?!"

Izuku was pretty certain he'd seen a few flickering sparks around the vicinity of Kacchan's fists. What the heck was he so mad about? Izuku hadn't done anything. He hadn't mentioned Kacchan sharing his breakfast with him to anyone. And he had no intention to, either.

"No... What's—what's wrong?"

"Listen, you half-wit fucktard. If you ever have anything to say about me, you say it to my face. Do you understand that, you goddamn son of a bitch?"

Izuku's stomach slowly slid down somewhere past his belly button. His gaze sought Ochako, and they shared an alarmed and dread-filled look.

"Bakugo—" Kirishima said, drawing up from where he'd been slumped at the foot of the couch.

"Shut up." Kacchan's voice was still dangerously level. Izuku briefly noted he almost sounded scarier when he wasn't shouting.

Everyone was frozen, watching. Nervous. Izuku reluctantly met Kacchan's fierce eyes again.

"And if you honestly think I _owe_ you anything..." Bakugo spat out. "I don't owe you _shit_. Not for Kamino Ward, not for the fucking sludge villain, and not for my fucking acceptance into UA."

Izuku was just staring at him, his brow pinched with a perturbed sort of confusion.

"Kacchan...I—"

"Shut up. Just shut your fucking mouth for once in your goddamn life, Deku." Kacchan held Izuku's eyes for a long, drawn-out moment, daring him to look away. The ferocity behind his stare hadn't lessened any, but Izuku didn't waver. He maintained their locked gaze, the troubled quirk in his brow deepening.

After a thick silence that seemed to stretch forever, Kacchan finally turned around and stalked away, heading for the stairs.

The group seemed to release a breath they hadn't realized they'd been holding.

"Goddamn," Kaminari finally said, drawing his gaze away from Kacchan's direction and back to Izuku. "What the heck happened with you two today?"

"It's just Bakugo being Bakugo," Sero said, addressing the group from one of the nearby tables. "Don't worry about it, Midoriya. He's probably just mad you mistook his pencil for yours, or accidentally knocked his towel on the floor or something. You know, the usual things that set Bakugo off."

A few of the kids laughed lightly at that, hoping to ease the tension.

Izuku's insides were roiling. "Maybe I should go...talk to him..." He made to stand, but Kirishima held up a blocking arm.

"Nah, let him cool off a while," Kirishima said. "He wants to sulk, we should probably just let him sulk for a bit." He turned his attention back to the group, his voice quickly returning to its usual genial tone. "Now are we starting a movie or what? What takes?"

Izuku spent the movie chewing on the inside of his lip and feeling all sorts of turbulent emotions tumble through him. He was hardly aware of what he was watching, and he wanted it to both end already, because it was garbage, and yet never stop playing, so he wouldn't ever have to go up to his room again.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and left while the movie was just past its midpoint.

He needed to talk to Kacchan.

He felt several pairs of anxious eyes follow him as he weaseled his way out of the group and slipped away upstairs.

His heart rate picked up as he rounded the second floor. And his breathing was a little faster than it should have been as he reached his door. He paused, taking a deep breath before opening it.

It was dark. Kacchan had gone to bed. Izuku stepped quietly inside, waking his phone for light as he gently closed the door behind him.

He stood there a moment, listening.

It was so quiet in there. A little too quiet.

Izuku silently crossed the floor, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

"I can tell you're not asleep."

...

"...Well, I'm not now, asshole."

"You were in the library," Izuku stated, almost accusing. "Why didn't you say anything?" He was a little surprised he was finding it difficult to keep his voice level. He sounded indignant. And considering how he felt at the moment, he was more than okay with that.

"Maybe because I didn't _want_ to say anything to you, you idiot. Maybe because I didn't even want to fucking see you. Why the hell do you think I was there in the first place?!"

"That conversation wasn't meant for you!"

The rustle of blankets. Kacchan must have sat up. "Listen, shithead. If you ever have anything to say about me, you can either shove it up your goddamn ass, or you can say it to my face!"

"No, I can't!" Something about Izuku's insides felt like they were being held together by a single fraying thread. "I can't say _anything_ to you! Nothing! Do you know why? Because you blow up in my face! Every time, without fail, no matter what it is I want to say!" Izuku knew he was treading dangerous waters, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. It was like the thread had snapped and everything was unraveling. "All that crap you overheard earlier? All that shit I've been wanting to say to you for years, but never could? That wasn't meant for you! Not yet, not like that!" Izuku felt a faint warning stinging behind his eyes, and he pushed it away, choosing instead to roll it into his anger. He wasn't going to cry. He'd promised himself. And he was so done with Kacchan's bullshit. Why did he have to overhear all that...?! To overhear _everything?_ That wasn't supposed to happen.

A lamp switched on, blinding Izuku for a moment. Kacchan righted himself from reaching over his desk and was sitting up on his bed, staring at him. Izuku could have likely read a lot behind that stare, if he wasn't so distracted by his own anger at the moment. The only thing that really stood out to him was Kacchan's complete incredulity.

Kacchan seemed at a loss for words. He just continued to stare at Izuku with such a convoluted mixture of disbelief and hate, and Izuku couldn't stand it. All the threads were unraveling further and there was nothing to stop it.

Before he even knew what was happening, Izuku launched himself at the other boy across the room. He didn't know why he was so angry. It wasn't like him to get so worked up. But Kacchan had overheard words that were only meant for a friend. And Kacchan had made it very clear that they would _never_ be friends. And as such, Kacchan should never have had the right to hear any of it—Not how Izuku would never be able to forget Kacchan's suggestion of killing himself. Not how Izuku had silently put up with Kacchan's incessant bullying out of fear he might hinder the chances of his tormentor achieving his dreams. Not how, despite everything, Izuku was still cheering Kacchan on, genuinely wanting him to achieve everything he ever hoped to. No, those were words that should have been willingly offered and received. Without the threat of an ensuing fight or explosion. He and Kacchan had made absolutely zero progress. And yet Kacchan had heard it all.

Kacchan was on his feet in a split second, meeting Izuku halfway with a growl. They grappled with each other, tightly gripping at arms and shirts and throwing hindered punches when an opening arose.

There seemed to be an unspoken agreement not to use their quirks. Neither of them were far gone enough in their anger to risk expulsion.

Kacchan was thrown into the dresser. Izuku was rammed against one of the beds.

They ended up on the floor swapping wrestling holds and gasping for breath. They weren't attempting to hit each other anymore. It was just a matter of who pinned who now.

"Why—do you—hate me—so freaking bad?" Izuku could barely get it out as he momentarily gained the upper hand over Kacchan, holding as much of his weight over him as he could. "Why—do you want me—to _kill_ myself?" Izuku said, squashing Kacchan as hard as he could into the floor.

Kacchan was done with that. He twisted hard and got a leg under Izuku, throwing him harshly off. He was on him in less than a second. "Why—do you take—everything so goddamn seriously?!" Kacchan huffed as he flipped Izuku onto his back. "Like I actually—meant for you—to jump off the goddamn roof—you goddamn—moron."

"So—you were— _joking?_ " Izuku demanded, fighting to keep his arms from being pinned. He was quickly losing energy. He'd give it one last push, but he knew he was nearly done.

Finally, Kacchan found himself solidly on top of Izuku, straddling his torso and gripping each of his wrists firmly above his head. Izuku couldn't move. It was over.

They sat there, breaths heaving, Kacchan refusing to let up in case Izuku found some more fight in him.

"If you—really were joking—" Izuku heaved, eyes closed briefly as he sought to regain his breath. "Why don't—you say it to me again?"

"What?" Kacchan spat, glaring down at him, his grip on Izuku's wrists still unrelenting.

"Tell me to kill myself." Izuku's lungs were finally calming somewhat.

Kacchan's brow furrowed further in anger.

"Go ahead and say it."

"I'm not playing your fucking games, Deku."

"You can't. See? Somehow, even _you_ are capable of realizing how messed up that is now."

Kacchan ground his teeth with a hint of a growl, his eyes boring into Izuku beneath him.

"Why in the hell would you hold on to some fucking offhand comment made when we were fucking twelve?! You and your goddamn fragile girl feelings."

"Kacchan, telling someone to kill themselves is never an 'offhand comment.' And it was only last year that you said it."

"Just shut the hell up about it! None of that shit even matters now!"

"It does to me."

"That's because you're a freaking girl, and the most whiny-ass crybaby I've ever met. If you're waiting for an apology, shitty Deku, you'll be waiting a very long fucking time. I don't do apologies. And there's no way in hell I'm about to start with you."

Izuku just closed his eyes in resignation, wondering what he had been hoping to achieve that evening in the first place. He sighed, struggling weakly against Kacchan in hopes he'd finally let up. "...We can't keep doing this."

Kacchan gave Izuku's wrists a painful squeeze before finally releasing him and climbing off to the floor. "What?" he finally offered, realizing Izuku wouldn't go on otherwise.

Izuku just stayed unmoving on the floor, chest rising and falling evenly. "This daily fighting... It's too exhausting."

Kacchan stayed on the floor, too, leaning against his bed. "If you weren't such an insufferable asshole, we wouldn't fight so much."

Izuku just scoffed, wanting to flip that statement right back around on Kacchan but deciding not to. "Right..." he finally offered, sighing and pushing himself to his seat. He'd realized they weren't going to get anywhere. He slowly drew to his feet and made his way to the bathroom. He was past ready to go to bed.

When he reemerged ten minutes later, Kacchan was back in his bed and the light was off.

Izuku climbed under his covers, his body stiff and sore from their unexpected brawl.

They lay there in silence for a long time, both listening to the other's breathing, waiting to see who fell asleep first.

Finally, after another long while, Izuku spoke into the darkness. "...Kacchan? Can I ask you something?"

"...No."

"Oh. Well. You don't have to answer...if it's hard for you to talk about...but..."

"...What? Just spit it out."

"...What did Shigaraki say to you? In Kamino Ward? ...What was he—What did he want from you?"

"...Why are you asking?"

Izuku shrugged. "Just curious, I guess?"

"Bullshit."

"Huh?"

"I know what you're doing, Deku."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"You're trying to build a profile on Shigaraki, aren't you? On all the villains. Aren't you? Just like you've done with all the heroes."

"Well...what's wrong with that? If I was, I mean?"

"Because it's none of your goddamn business, that's what. The pros will handle the villains. Just keep your nose out of it."

A silence fell once more.

Izuku tried again. "Well, when Shigaraki pulled me aside at the Kiyashi Ward mall—"

"What?"

"When he drew me away at the shopping center to talk to me—"

"When the hell did that happen?"

"I dunno...a little while ago?"

"Shigaraki showed up at the mall...to talk to you?"

"...Yeah. Did you not hear about this?"

"No. No one ever tells me a goddamn thing. Were you alone?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"What do you mean, 'you guess?'"

"Well, there were a ton of other people around, and a bunch of our classmates were in the area, but yeah, I was alone when he talked to me."

"What did he want?"

"Just to talk. It was really weird. He mostly wanted my thoughts on Stain..."

"Did he threaten you?"

"Not too bad."

"What do you mean, 'not too bad,' you idiot? Either he threatened you, or he didn't."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't feel like I was in too much danger, really."

"Did he try to draw you away?"

"Not too far. Like I said, he just sat me down in the middle of the shopping strip to talk."

"Goddammit, Deku, you freaking idiot. Don't you know that's attempted kidnapping?!"

"Well, yeah... I mean, I spent the rest of the day at the police station talking to Detective Tsukauchi."

"So, you at least reported it?"

"Yes, of course I reported it!"

"What did the cops say about it?"

"I don't know, that doesn't even matter. What I was trying to—"

"Yes it does, dumbass. Did they think you were targeted? Or that it was coincidental?"

"I don't know," Izuku was starting to get a little impatient at Kacchan's endless interruptions. "I think they suspected coincidental? Like I said, that's not even relev—"

"Yes, it is, you goddamn moron! You don't get it, do you?" Kacchan fumed.

"...What?"

"You can't get involved in anything related to those villains. Shigaraki especially."

"...I'm not planning to—"

"That means not even any profiling, Deku. I'm serious."

"What the heck do you care—"

"I don't _care_ , asshole. But you have the effing responsibility to All Might to watch your own ass and stay safe, and not get involved in anything concerning Shigaraki."

"I—don't..." Izuku was as a loss for the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. What was Kacchan talking about?

"Just drop it, alright?" Kacchan said shortly, effectively ending the conversation. And then decided to add a moment later, "If you're still planning on getting your ass handed to you in training tomorrow, you better get the hell to sleep."

Izuku stayed silent in response, knowing it would be a long while yet till sleep found him.

Another long moment passed.

"By the way, shitty Deku. You said 'shit' earlier."

...

"...Wonder who I could have possibly picked that up from."

He could have been very wrong. But Izuku was eighty-five percent certain Kacchan had stifled a snort just then.

* * *

 **So, I'm quite certain you guys aren't as dense as these silly boys are. And you've probably noticed that amidst all their adamant declarations of never being able to become friends, they've actually and unknowingly started acting...kind of somewhat close to friends?**


	5. Training and Head Trauma

Bakugo flipped his pillow over for the third time in the last twenty minutes, kneading (punching) it and silently fuming at himself for still being awake.

He could hear Deku across the room, his light and paced breathing indicating sleep had found him a while ago, and Bakugo couldn't help seething further.

Effing Deku was the one who had brought up all the shit that was currently hindering Bakugo's sleep. And yet he had the nerve to not be bothered by it enough to disrupt his own rest, while Bakugo continued to toss and turn. It was bullshit.

 _Ugh. Stop thinking about it..._ He couldn't though. No matter how hard Bakugo tried to turn his brain off, the stupid nerd's oblivious voice from the library kept coming back to him again and again, over and over.

Deku's casual explanation of Bakugo's perpetual anger just being 'how he was.' Deku's, dare Bakugo say, _fond_ reminiscing over their shitty playtimes together as kids. Deku's accusing—but in the least accusatory way—Bakugo of dropping him as a friend because he was quirkless. And then not really letting the blame fall anywhere—not on Bakugo, not on his parents, not even on himself for being quirkless; just shrugging it off as 'two little kids who didn't understand, and couldn't work things out.' Deku's willing dismissal of Bakugo's suggestion of killing himself as something Bakugo surely couldn't have meant. Because Bakugo was meant to go far as a hero, not a villain. And Deku wasn't about to let himself get in his way, no matter how much Bakugo tormented him, or made him out to be a barrier when no threat even existed yet.

Fuck him.

Deku had never reported any of Bakugo's relentless bullying because he was knew it would reflect on Bakugo's record. ...Because he knew it would pretty much screw his chances of getting accepted into UA.

 _Fuck_ him.

Screw him for even remembering all of that shit in the first place. (Could the stupid nerd let nothing go?) Screw him for realizing the implications it could have had on his future and never pointing it out to Bakugo at the time. For never using it as some form of leverage or retaliation against Bakugo. Screw him for never fighting back! For never letting Bakugo get what was coming to him for his childish, and yeah, okay, somewhat inexcusable behavior.

And screw Deku for not even throwing any of it in his face, even now! For actually being upset that Bakugo had inadvertently heard all his thoughts on the subject.

But, why the hell had Deku been so mad about Bakugo merely hearing it? Shouldn't he have been upset about the actual content of what was said? About the past? Scratch that—shouldn't _Bakugo_ have been the one with the right to be angry? Angry that Deku thought he was so freaking clever and was planning to keep all that shit to himself, only to hold it over Bakugo's head at some later time? A more opportune time?

But, no. Eff that freaking nerd. Bakugo knew he wasn't keeping it all from him in order to throw it in his face later.

Bakugo knew Deku was keeping it to himself for the chance at a possible reconciliation down the road.

Fuck him.

Why did he have to act so damn high and mighty all the time? Why had he never just fought back and gotten legitimately angry for once in his goddamn life? Yeah, Deku had shown an unexpected spark of something close to anger earlier that night. For the first time ever. When he'd confronted Bakugo about his accidental eavesdropping and initiated their little scuffle. But it should have been more than a spark. It should have been full-blown, indignant anger. Enough to have made him win their fight. But Deku would never do that. He'd never tap into anger—not even when it was rightly due to him—and use it to actually win for once. He was an effing pushover, and he always would be.

 _"...Those words weren't meant for you. Not yet, not like this..."_

...Why in the _hell_ was that stupid idiot still holding out hope for a potential reconciliation between the two of them? How many effing times did Bakugo have to let him know that just wasn't happening?! That it just wasn't possible?

Ugghhh. Bakugo buried himself in his pillow for the millionth time.

 _"...Nah, I'm not gonna say anything. It's fine—it's just how he is. I got used to it years ago..."_

 _"...Well...no, actually. Kacchan was actually a really cool little kid...He might deny it, but we used to be good friends..."_

 _"...Kacchan got a quirk and I didn't..."_

 _"...It's an awesome quirk. Kacchan knew it, and he knew everyone else knew it, and it might have got to his head a little bit...?"_

 _"...I think I started annoying him early on...I don't think Kacchan wanted anything to do with a quirkless kid... He just personally didn't like me and I wasn't able to fight back... I was an easy target, honestly... I'm not blaming him at all, he was just a little kid...we both were... Kids don't understand stuff like that... Heh, at least he's not telling me to jump off the roof anymore... Teacher's can't do a lot and I was fineIdidn'twanttoaffectKacchan'schancesofgettingintoUAatall..."_

God fucking dammit, shut up!

 _"...I_ still _want to see how far he'll go... I mean, despite everything..."_

Uggghhh. Screw that nerd. That stupid, freaking goddamn nerd.

Whyyy? Why in the hell was Kacchan feeling _guilty?_ Was this what feeling guilty felt like? Insides all clenched up like they can't decide between completely smothering each other or heaving right out of his chest? Lungs restricted to the point he couldn't catch a satisfying breath to save his life? What was this shit? He didn't feel bad. This was _Deku_ he was talking about. The most annoying crybaby-weakling-pushover he'd ever encountered in his entire life. He didn't give a shit about that stupid kid. That stupid kid who would never stop following him and never stop looking up to him and never stop seeing something different than what everyone else saw when they looked at him. What did that effing nerd see?! Why did he have such a ridiculously high opinion of Bakugo? When and why in the hell had he developed such absurdly high regard for him...?

Is that what this was...? Was Bakugo...afraid, in some screwed up way? Afraid that shitty Deku's goddamn nonsensical admiration for him had set such a high and potentially unattainable standard for him to achieve? ...Is that why he hated Deku so badly? Was it all just another jacked-up facet of his fear of failure..?

 _Bullshit._

What the hell was he on about? It must have been late, because Bakugo clearly wasn't thinking straight. He hated Deku because Deku was Deku. Simple as that. Goddamn.

Uggghhh... Regardless, why in the hell was he suddenly feeling some irrational sense of goddamn responsibility for the stupid nerd's whiny ass?

This was all effing All Might's fault, wasn't it?

 _"...I want to ask you to attempt to shoulder some of this burden with Midoriya... You're the only one capable of understanding what he's going through... Look after him...I can't always be there..."_

Fucking All Might. Fuck him, too.

This was all such a load of shit. All of it. Bakugo shoved it all away. As hard as he could.

But remembering All Might's words only brought yet another irritating grievance to Bakugo's mind: Deku's mention of his bizarre encounter with Shigaraki at the mall a few weeks ago. What the hell had that been about? What could Shigaraki have possibly wanted to talk to Deku for, and why had Deku played it off like it wasn't that big of a deal? Did that idiot honestly not possess any sense of self-preservation? Did he even know what the term 'self-preservation' meant? Clearly not, looking back at his early days of struggling with his new quirk (How many bones had he broken by this point?). Ugh, did the little effer not even realize his importance now that All Might's legacy was riding squarely on his shoulders? Now that One For All's continued influence rested on him alone? How could he seriously not understand what a huge freaking deal that was? What an effing lucky honor that was? Had it never even crossed Deku's mind what would happen if Shigaraki took a personal interest in him? If Shigaraki picked up on even a hint of his connection to All Might? Did he have any idea what a potentially easily exploited weak point he could become to All Might? No, of course, he didn't. Because Deku was a freaking idiot.

Ugh, why was he still even thinking about any of this shit? Why was he _worrying_ about any of it? It wasn't any of his goddamn business! It shouldn't have been even remotely close to being his business! Then why was it seeming more and more like his damn business everyday, for God's sake..?

Bakugo rolled over with another angry sigh. He was done with this shit. Done thinking about it, done trying to make sense of any of it...done trying to figure out his own effing pointless feelings on the whole situation. They didn't matter. And neither did Deku's, for that matter. None of it did.

The only thing that mattered at the moment was getting enough rest to be able to hand Deku's infuriating, whiny ass to him on a platter in the morning. Then Bakugo would feel better. Then he could just forget the entire aggravating day and how he—the smartest and most capable kid at UA—just hadn't been able to make heads or tails of any of it...

* * *

Bakugo's alarm went off sooner than it should have. Sooner than it had any right to.

With a groan, Bakugo sat up and reached to his limits to silence it. He kept his phone plugged in on his desk since it forced him to get up to shut it off. Not that he ever really had trouble with getting up, but if there was one morning he might have, it would have been that one. He'd slept like shit.

He stretched slowly, stifling a yawn and glancing over to shitty Deku. His bed was empty. The sound of a running sink hummed from the bathroom.

Bakugo blinked the rest of sleep from his eyes and pushed himself out of bed. He drew his shirt off with another stretch, and turned for his dresser. Getting dressed in his workout gear saw him moving a little more slowly than he would have liked. He hoped it wasn't an indication of how his movements in training might hold up. He'd need to be quick. As quick as he was capable if he was going to square off with Deku.

Deku emerged from the bathroom as Bakugo finished pulling his shoes on.

"Hey," he said a little too friendly-like as he turned for the closet and grabbed a sweatshirt. "You getting ready?" he asked, pulling his hoodie on. No hint of any of yesterday's shit. No suggestion of their fight even happening. Bakugo was more than fine with that. Maybe the stupid nerd was finally learning there was no point in rehashing crap that was in the past and didn't matter.

"...What's it look like?" Bakugo replied, annoyed at Deku's good mood. Straightening, he turned for the bathroom and brushed his teeth while Deku stretched or some shit.

Bakugo spit, wiped his face, and entered the bedroom again, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder. "Let's go."

Deku fell into step behind him, which, Bakugo noted, was smart of him to not try walking next to him. He wasn't about to stroll through the grounds side by side with that idiot. People might mistake them for buddies who trained together regularly or some shit. Or even willingly.

Freaking Aizawa...

They made their way to one of the bigger gyms further away from their home room. A large portion of it was laid out similarly to how Cementoss had set up their gym prior to their licensing exams—when they'd been developing their special moves. Multiple platforms of varying heights created alleys on the ground, and diverse levels up above. Numerous hand and footholds covered the vertical sides of the tall platforms. It was a good set-up for working with various quirks, especially if one wanted to involve height and incorporate their surroundings.

They dropped their bags and took a minute or two to stretch. It was still very early, and Bakugo could feel his shitty sleep in his muscles and behind his eyes.

"...So," Deku said after a minute, a little apprehensively. "What should we start with?"

Bakugo dropped his arm back down to his side, his shoulder still feeling a little tight. "Just some sparring. Hand-to-hand. Get a feel for what shit you're falling short on."

Deku released a short, uneasy breath. "...'Kay." He sounded hesitant. "Just...as long as we don't end up going as hard as at Ground Beta..."

"We won't have to if you're not a goddamn moron about it."

"...Right." The stupid nerd still sounded reluctant.

"Look, just don't be an asshole, and no one will get hurt."

Deku hummed a doubtful affirmative, and Bakugo took a stance.

They went at it, carefully, somewhat hesitantly at first. Hand-to-hand, face-to-face. Bakugo always had to make the first move since Deku was a wuss, and he was mostly straight forward with it. It was usually his right hook. Occasionally he'd switch it up to throw Deku off, or he'd lead off with a feint, but the result was always the same: a series of blocked blows on both sides, several fairly-well utilized openings, and eventually Deku winding up on the ground, panting, while Bakugo dug a knee into him.

"Your reaction time is effing slow, Deku." Bakugo said, digging his knee into Deku a little harder than necessary as he made to stand.

A faint wince crossed Deku's face.

"You're thinking too much—trying to lay out the entire fight in your head before it's even begun." Bakugo rolled his head, stretching his neck. "Why don't you just focus on the goddamn present and read your opponent's movements as they're happening—not what you think they'll lead to. It's making you slow as hell."

"Right," Deku said, staring up unmoving from the ground.

"Let's step it up. Use our quirks. You obviously need yours if you're gonna keep up with me at all."

Deku offered a cautious nod. He seemed nervous. "'Kay...Just...I'm not gonna go at it like I did at Ground Beta."

"I _know,_ you idiot. I'm not deaf. How many times do you think you need to repeat your annoying-ass self? God."

They brought their quirks into play, and their sparring match suddenly became interesting. Their hits became more interesting, having legitimate strength or explosive momentum behind them. Their blocks and evasive maneuvers became more interesting—their motions now capable of significant range. Their follow-throughs and recovery times were split-second fast.

Deku was proving to be a challenge. Just as much as at Ground Beta. It was actually almost exhilarating facing off with him again—without so much of the pent up shit Bakugo had been dealing with at the time.

Deku was fast. He was actually keeping Bakugo on his toes. Bakugo was still able to get more hits in, but Deku's dodges were coming across as almost effortless. And his recovery time was practically nonexistent.

Bakugo knew his poor sleep from the previous night was causing just a fraction of sluggishness on his part. And it was starting to get a little aggravating.

They were using their surroundings to their full advantage now, propelling and rebounding as they attacked and dodged and chased each other up and around.

The problem wasn't so much that Bakugo was just a hint slower than normal, which was frustrating as hell, to say the least. The problem was that Deku was a little too fast. He had gotten so fast. His dodges were well-timed and solidly executed, and he might as well have not needed even a split second for recovery, with how quickly he kept winding up back on the offensive.

Bakugo was actually almost struggling against the stupid nerd. And it was starting to get infuriating as hell. He couldn't gain a solid upper-hand, no matter what he tried. He'd get a momentary grip on Deku, blast him aside hard, and before he could get on him and make the pin, Deku would be gone—back up and darting around for another offensive strike.

Several minutes into their unrelenting skirmish, Deku came at Bakugo, aiming for a blow while seeming to know it wouldn't quite land. He gripped Bakugo, changing direction and rolling the momentum of his original hit to counter Bakugo's dodge as he whirled him about and flung him in the opposite direction.

That was it. Bakugo had had enough.

"What the hell, _Deku?_ Stop stealing my fucking moves!" Bakugo fumed as he righted himself against a wall. He had pulled the exact same move on Deku at Ground Beta. When he'd flung him into the guard rail. Deku hadn't been quite as rough with it, but it was still his move.

"What, think you can throw me off by getting a rise out of me?" Bakugo demanded, running an arm across his mouth.

"No. If my moves seem similar, it's not intentional. They're just good moves—otherwise you wouldn't be using them, too, right?" Deku responded, turning and kicking back and forth off parallel walls before propelling himself forward with his power—another technique Deku had stolen from Bakugo the week they'd returned from their internships.

"Stop trying to piss me off! Why the hell are you _always_ trying to piss me off?!" Bakugo grabbed at Deku, a hand fisting in his shirt as the other drew back, ready to land a solid hit. Deku was strong though. He twisted in his grip, and kicked off the wall again as Bakugo sent a furious explosion in his wake.

"I'm not!" Deku exclaimed, quickly darting to the side before Bakugo could land on him.

Bakugo redirected his course, trying to keep up with the shitty nerd. He was quickly losing what meager grasp he'd been trying to hold on his temper.

"Every single fucking thing you do is a jab at me, asshole! Don't think I don't notice, no matter how subtle a son of a bitch you pretend to be."

Bakugo finally got a hand on Deku and was gripping him hard. They traded a few blows and blocks, each becoming more heated than the last.

"That's—not true at all—?"

Bakugo finally got a decent opening on Deku and swung at him hard, unable or unwilling to contain the burst that accompanied it. Deku twisted and leapt away, narrowly dodging.

"Oh please, you goddamn moron. How stupid do you think I am? Stealing my moves, never fighting back as kids—always sticking to your lame-ass 'high road?'" Bakugo barely avoided a well-aimed kick. He threw his hands out, using small bursts to quickly right himself before launching at Deku once more. They grappled with each other briefly again, neither able to gain the upper hand.

"Following me all the way to UA," Bakugo continued, his voice growing more livid. "Refusing to call me anything but my patronizing childhood nickname. Taking _Deku_ as your hero name? Could there be a more blatant 'Fuck you' than that?!"

"Kacchan, I—"

Bakugo finally landed a hit and Deku grunted, ducking his head a moment before locking gazes with Bakugo again, a new intensity flashing behind his eyes.

"Don't even try to play dumb on that one, _Deku._ Do you think I'm fucking stupid? I can see right through you—thinking you'll one day be Number One and that I won't ever be able to live your fucking name down. Fuck you."

"That's not even—what are you even talking—"

More partially delivered blows on both sides as Bakugo gripped and shoved at him.

"Wait. I take it back. It's not the name. The biggest 'Fuck you' you've ever thrown in my face is when you secretly gained All Might's favor behind my back. When you became his successor without telling anyone."

Izuku quickly glanced around. "Keep it down, will you?! And that's not—You're talking nonsense!"

"Shut up, Deku, don't even try to deny what you meant by it all!"

"No—I won't shut up, and you're not—you couldn't be more wrong about _any_ of that!"

Bakugo's grip on his temper had long since faltered. He was mad now. He was fucking furious. Furious that he hadn't been able to gain the upper hand over Deku, when they'd been going at it for far too long now. Furious at Deku contstantly one-upping him and slighting him and throwing out all his subtle 'fuck yous' over the years that he wouldn't even own up to! Because he was 'above that shit.' Ha, bullshit! That effing nerd was capable of playing just as maliciously as Bakugo, only he had the effing audacity to deny it all by playing dumb.

Yeah, Bakugo was mad. And he found a small trace of satisfaction upon glimpsing a fiery anger behind Deku's eyes as well. His insufferable, big eyes, staring back at him, incredulous. Yes. Bakugo wanted more of that anger shining in those stupid, green eyes.

They sprang apart, breaths heaving, incensed gazes permanently locked in a too-evenly-matched war of wills.

The anger was finally equal on both sides. For the first time Bakugo could ever recall. This was it. Deku was finally going to legitimately retaliate. He was finally going to reciprocate everything Bakugo had ever felt for him—all the hate, the disdain, the frustration, and most recently—the envy. Deku was at long last understanding what that all felt like. And he was finally going to come at Bakugo with all he had. Bakugo could see it.

Both boys stared at each other for another drawn out moment before launching themselves at the other with a growl. Fists pulled back—one sparking with power, the other with fire. This was it. Deku's stupid green eyes, livid and resentful, were lining up just right in Bakugo's aim.

 _Give me everything you've got, Deku._

Those stupid green eyes kept coming nearer, alight with indignation, exasperation, and yes, still anger. The fiery anger was still there.

Bakugo smirked, ready to land his blow.

And the fire went out.

It was almost deja vu.

In the last split second. The flames were doused in those stupid green eyes, and there was nothing there but the most fleeting glimpse of...remorse? Resignation?

It all happened too quickly. Bakugo didn't have the chance to back down. His hit rang true, bolstered by as much explosive force as he could throw behind it.

Deku hadn't hit back. He had chosen at the last moment not to hit back. And he hadn't had a chance to block, either. He merely took the hit and went sailing through the air in seemingly slow motion before slamming into the wall behind him and crumpling in a heap at the bottom.

...

Bakugo stared. He blinked. His chest heaved. What the hell just...?

Deku just continued to lay there. At the base of the wall. Unmoving.

Bakugo slowly righted himself, still trying to make sense of what had happened—why there was a limp and too-still form across the way.

He hadn't hit him that hard. He hadn't hit him that hard. He hadn't hit him that hard.

Bakugo took what almost qualified as a step towards him.

"...Deku?"

He took another uncertain step forward.

"Hey. Asshole."

A series of hesitant steps.

"Get up. The hell do you think you're doing?"

His chest felt tight as hell as he crouched next to Deku, a hand trying very hard to stay steady as he reached for a shoulder.

"Hey." He gave him a shake, trying to ignore the uninvited fear that had slipped in to join his uncertainty.

He hadn't hit him that hard. He hadn't hit him that hard!

Deku groaned, coughing weakly, and Bakugo might be lying if he claimed there was anything other than relief behind the sigh that just escaped him.

" _Ass_ hole," Bakugo said, his voice quickly regaining its usual vehemence as Deku gradually came to. "What the _fuck_ was that?!"

"...Uhh..?" Deku's eyes blinked open, disoriented.

"What the hell did you think you were—Who the fuck are you— _Icy Hot?!_ "

"...Wha...?"

"Goddamn it, you goddamn, fucking _idiot!_ You can't back out of a one-on-one exchange last second like that, you freaking son-of a-bitch-asshole- _moron!_ "

"...Kacchan?" Deku was blinking up at him, attempting to sit up.

"God _damn_. What the hell is _wrong_ with you?"

Deku's brow was furrowed in complete confusion. A wince pinched his brow further as he straightened against the wall.

"What's...what's wrong?"

Bakugo just stared at him, teeth grinding and completely fuming before abruptly standing and stalking away.

When he returned several moments later, Deku was still just sitting there, still just trying to make sense of his goddamn surroundings.

"Wha's that?" Deku asked, his voice slurring as Bakugo pressed a towel against the side of his head. "Tss—ouch!"

"You're bleeding, dumbass. Here." Bakugo gripped Deku's wrist, drawing it up to hold the towel in place.

"What—what happened?" Deku was still so out of it, but Bakugo's exasperation wasn't about to lessen any.

"You just had to go and throw one more giant 'Fuck you' in my face, didn't you?" Bakugo was shaking his head in disbelief. "Because Half'n'Half pulling that shit on me once wasn't enough, was it?"

"Hm?"

"Look, you goddamn idiot. You went and got yourself a fucking concussion because you're a stupid son of a bitch with no sense of self-preservation and absolutely no respect for your opponent in a fair fight. Goddamn. Fuck you, Deku."

Deku only pulled the towel away to rub an arm across his brow.

"Don't," Bakugo huffed, redirecting the wadded towel back to the cut on the side of his head. He let out an annoyed sigh before grasping Deku's head, pulling it near to get a better look.

"Ow."

"Shut up." Satisfied, Bakugo released Deku, trying as hard as he could to be somewhat gentle about it. "It's not that bad, so stop whining. It probably doesn't need stitches. Just keep the towel there till it stops bleeding."

Bakugo stood, looking down at Deku in complete irritation.

"Can you get up, you idiot?"

"...Yeah," Deku replied, though he made no move to.

Bakugo stalked away again, retrieving their bags. When he returned, Deku was still just sitting slumped against the wall, staring at the ground.

"Look, will you just get up? I'm not gonna—I can't just leave your stupid ass here, because you obviously have a concussion, and you need to go to the med bay." He gave Deku's shoe a light kick. "Will you just stand up, asshole?"

Deku took a deep breath. "...Yeah. Sure." It seemed to take him a fair amount of effort, and he was wincing all the way, but the stupid nerd managed to get to his feet.

Bakugo studied him a brief moment before turning and leading the way out of there.

They crossed through the school, Bakugo ignoring the wary gazes they drew, and when they finally reached a certain intersection of corridors, Bakugo called for Deku to stop.

"Where are you going?"

Deku shrugged. "Dorms," he replied, as if the answer was obvious.

"No, you have to go to the med bay, you idiot," Bakugo said, pointing down the hall opposite the direction Deku was heading.

"Nah, I'm fine," Deku said, continuing on his way out of the school.

"Deku," Bakugo said, increasing his pace briefly to catch up. "Don't be a jackass. Just go and let the old lady take a look at you."

"I'm good, don't worry about it," Deku replied, sounding a little huffy.

"You're practically bleeding out from an effing gash on the side of your effing head, you stupid idiot."

"Just—ugh—stop," Deku retorted, sounding annoyed that Bakugo was hounding him.

The stupid nerd was clearly very out of it, but whatever. Bakugo could hardly deal with a normal Deku, and he wasn't about to bend over backwards for a goddamn concussed Deku full of sass.

"Fine, whatever. Effing moron," Bakugo muttered.

They made their way back to the dorms, walking a length apart from each other. They would have gone their separate ways if they weren't headed for the same destination.

Luckily most of the extras were still out training, or home for the weekend, so the common area was pretty easy to slip through mostly unnoticed. Bakugo took the stairs a little behind Deku and rounded the second floor, heading for their room.

He entered the room shortly after Deku, and was a little surprised to find the nerd had already holed himself up in the bathroom, without even first attempting to address the shitshow that had been their training session. Bakugo tossed the gym bags down. It kind of seemed like concussed shitty Deku didn't care to talk. And Bakugo was just fine with that.

Bakugo plopped down at his desk. He supposed he could get going on some of his studies while waiting to shower.

Man, Deku was such a moron. What in the hell _was_ that?

Bakugo wasn't about to feel bad for inadvertently injuring the stupid nerd. What the hell did the idiot think would happen if he pulled a move like that?

God, he was so stupid!

The sound of retching from the bathroom suddenly interrupted his thoughts, and Bakugo's insides tightened a fraction. He stopped tapping his pencil against his book and paused, listening.

More retching. The flush of a toilet.

Damn that idiot. He needed to go see the old lady.

Bakugo tried to drag his attention back to his school work in front of him, but it proved difficult when all he could find himself doing was listening for more signs of distress from shitty concussed Deku in the bathroom.

It was quiet. It sounded like the nerd was at least done puking. But...it didn't sound like he was doing much of anything else, either.

Several minutes passed with nothing but silence on the other side of the bathroom door.

What was he doing? Had he passed out or some shit?

Ugghhh, was the freaking idiot dying in there or what?

He wasn't about to check on him. What the hell? The idiot could drown in his own vomit for all Bakugo cared...

But the endless silence on the other side of the door was starting to eat away at him for some unknown reason, goddammit.

Bakugo waited another long moment before finally drawing to his feet. He stalked over to the bathroom, knocking at the door and not bothering at all to be polite about it. "What the hell are you doing in there, Deku? I need to shower, dammit."

No answer.

Bakugo's breath paused. "Deku?" he called.

He turned the knob and pushed the door open, ignoring the slight relief he felt upon finding it unlocked.

"What the hell?" Bakugo asked upon finding Deku draped over the toilet bowl. Apparently he'd been asleep or some shit—more likely passed out or something, but he actually squinted open his eyes and raised his head a fraction as Bakugo entered.

"Why didn't you answer me, asshole?" Bakugo demanded.

"...I think I'm sick. I don't feel good."

"Oh my God, you idiot. How many times do I have to tell you you have an effing con-cuss-ion?" Bakugo replied, emphasizing the word with as much exasperation as he could. "Get off your goddamn ass and go see the old lady right now. You're pale as shit, and I heard you puking."

Deku slowly buried his head back in his arms for a moment before somehow managing to push himself to his feet.

"I'm just...tired. And I don't feel too great," he said, mildly brushing past Bakugo and heading towards his bed. He eased himself down on it and sank face-first into his pillow.

Bakugo followed him with his eyes and huffed, his daily annoyance allotment already exceeded.

"Why the hell will you not just go get your damn head taken care of?"

"...'m fine..."

"Will you stop saying that, shithead?! I just heard you puking your guts out, and now you're practically passing out all over the place. Look, you probably shouldn't go to sleep without getting it checked out first, you idiot."

"...Jus'...shhh..."

Did that effer just _shush_ him?

"Fine. Whatever. Screw you, moron."

Bakugo threw his drawers open and grabbed some clean clothes. And he wasn't too quiet about closing the bathroom door behind him as he went to shower.

What an effing idiot.

Deku was still asleep when Bakugo emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later. And when Bakugo returned from sneaking a meal in the cafeteria another forty-five minutes after that, Deku was still soundly asleep.

It was between hour three and four of his homework that Bakugo felt the faint gnaw of worry creep back in. Gah, it was annoying as hell. Why in the hell should he be worried about that stupid nerd's stupid head? The whole thing was essentially an accident. It wasn't his fault Deku had wussed out and taken the hit. It's not like Bakugo had attacked him with the aim to harm him. And it wasn't like Bakugo was at risk of being expelled over it. That was, if Deku wasn't actually dying.

Ugghh.

Bakugo pushed his books away and stood. The stupid nerd had been sleeping for over four hours. That was more than long enough.

"Deku."

No response. Just continued light breathing.

He roughly shook his shoulder. "Deku, it's time to get your lazy ass up, asshole."

A mild adjustment against the pillow was all Bakugo got in response.

"Deku!" He shook him harder. "Wake up, you goddamn idiot!"

A small shrug of annoyance.

"Tch. Fine. Stupid son of a bitch. Go ahead and sleep till you die then. See if I care."

Bakugo sat back down at his desk with a huff. He was done with his studies for now. He couldn't sit there staring at his books anymore. His brain needed a rest. But he couldn't exactly take off and leave the shitty concussed nerd alone, could he? And where would he go that wouldn't draw questions? He was certain at least one of the extras had likely noticed Deku dripping blood on their way in from training. It was a wonder the whole thing hadn't spread through the entire class and had them all clawing at the door already.

Bakugo released another exasperated sigh, unsure of what to do. He glanced at his phone. Asking for help was probably the last thing he would normally do, but maybe he could just turn the shitty nerd over to someone else and be done with the mess.

He reached for his phone.

Bakugo: Shitty hair  
Shitty Hair: Yo  
Shitty Hair: What's up  
Bakugo: Come by my room  
Bakugo: Shitty Deku's room I mean  
Shitty Hair: Maybe in like an hour? Pretty busy with hw  
Bakugo: Just come now  
Shitty Hair: What's up?  
Bakugo: The stupid nerd hit his head during training and he's been sleeping all goddamn day and won't wake up  
Shitty Hair: Wth  
Shitty Hair: What?  
Shitty Hair: Is he ok?  
Bakugo: I don't know. I'm not a fucking doctor  
Shitty Hair: Be right there

A knock sounded at the door less than two minutes later. Bakugo stood to answer it and immediately fumed upon drawing it open.

"What the hell? Why's _he_ here?" Bakugo demanded, locking eyes with Icy Hot, standing next to Kirishima.

Half'n'Half just quietly brushed past him, heading over to Deku's bed.

"I figured you wouldn't want the guys tagging along with me, but I bumped into Todoroki in the elevator," Kirishima explained, stepping inside. "And, I dunno, he just seemed like he'd be more useful than you or me in this situation."

Bakugo let a low growl escape him but didn't say anything more about it. He turned as Kirishima hesitantly approached the bed as well. Icy Hot was alternating between tapping Deku's cheek and shaking his shoulder.

"Midoriya," Icy Hot said, shaking a little harder yet somehow managing to still be gentle about it. "Can you get up?"

"He's been a goddamn lazy idiot all day, and he refused to go to the med bay earlier."

Half'n'Half glanced up briefly with what Bakugo assumed was an accusing glare. It was difficult to tell with that asshole sometimes though. He silently fumed. Why the hell had Kirishima brought that bastard with him?

"What happened?" Kirishima asked, crossing his arms as he took another uncertain step towards the bed.

Bakugo released a short breath. "We were training together this morning, since Aizawa's an idiot for making us, and the stupid nerd pulled some Half'n'Half shit on me and backed out of a hard exchange." Icy Hot eyed him again. "Look, I didn't mean to hit him that hard, asshole. Deku's just a wuss and it was an accident."

Half'n'Half was attempting to draw Deku up to a sitting position. Kirishima reached down to help. Deku's stupid eyes were finally starting to blink open as Half'n'Half drew one of his arms over his shoulders.

"Can you stand?" Icy Hot asked him. "We need to take you to Recovery Girl."

Kirishima bent to reach for Deku's other arm, and slung it over his own shoulders as Icy Hot made to stand with him.

Deku's eyes were finally mostly open. "'M fine," he mumbled, attempting to shrug them off, but they held his arms in place.

"Yeah, we know. It's okay, we're just gonna help you part of the way, alright? Till you wake up a little." Kirishima said, his usual light-hearted tone back.

They walked Deku to the door, and Icy Hot's gaze found Bakugo's once more. The bastard was being difficult to read on purpose. It made Bakugo seethe. Why the hell should that bastard care about shitty Deku so much? It's not like he had any history with the stupid nerd. He didn't have any claim to friendship with the idiot. Why the hell should he have any right to look at Bakugo like he'd just kicked a goddamn puppy or some shit?

Bakugo glared back and slammed the door behind them. Good effing riddance.

Bakugo let out a thoroughly irritated sigh. What a shitty morning. What a shitty goddamn week. All because of shitty Deku.

At least the stupid idiot was off his hands for now though. At least he wasn't going to slip into an effing coma and die in his effing sleep because Bakugo hadn't said or done anything. That at least counted for something, right?

Bakugo huffed again, deciding he was more than done with the day. And it was still too early for that. Ugh.

He dropped on his bed, finally giving his fatigue a chance to make itself fully known. The morning had been a suckfest and he could really use a nap...

* * *

When Bakugo woke hours later, he was still alone in the room. Which was just fine by him. He pulled out his phone and watched some pointless shit online for a bit, and then snuck out for a few laps around campus, followed by a meal in the main building's cafeteria. He'd been hoping to avoid as many shitty extras as he could, since he was certain they all would have heard how he'd busted shitty Deku's head open that morning, and he had no intention of dealing with their indignant glares all evening.

He stopped by the library briefly in search of a couple books to clarify some questions he'd had on his studies earlier, and finally decided to head back to their dorm room. It was getting near enough to what could be considered an early bed time. Finally. He was so done with the day.

He showered a second time from his earlier run, and took his time with it. The hot water felt nice, and he didn't have much else to do, really.

When he emerged from the bathroom a good thirty plus minutes later, Deku was back. He was standing at his dresser, a drawer open. Bakugo noticed a lone little bottle of pills sitting on the nerd's desk.

Their eyes met briefly.

"Hey..." Deku said, glancing back to his sock drawer. He scratched the back of his head. "...Sorry about...earlier," he offered somewhat quietly.

"Yeah, that was really fucking stupid of you." Bakugo ran his towel through his hair again. "How's your head?"

Deku closed his drawer, clean clothes in hand. "It's fine," he offered. "I mean, it aches, but Recovery Girl did what she could and gave me some pills," he said, gestering vaguely.

Bakugo didn't respond, just made his way to his desk while Deku took his turn in the bathroom.

The shower ran for a long time. Bakugo idly flipped through one of his new books, wishing Deku would hurry the hell up so they could go to bed already. It was still fairly early, but he was pretty sure Deku was as anxious to be done with the shitty day as he was.

Deku finally emerged, stopping at his desk briefly to take some of his medicine, and climbed right into bed.

Bakugo was a little surprised, but he figured the shitty nerd must have really needed the rest. He watched him for a brief moment before flipping his lamp off and climbing into bed as well.

He lay there for a long time. Waiting for the shitty nerd to speak. He was going to any minute now, there was no getting around it. He was sure stupid Deku was just dying to 'talk through' their latest daily shitshow.

The shitty nerd stayed surprisingly quiet, however. Bakugo could tell he wasn't asleep though. He was still moving too much. And his breathing was too quiet.

Finally, fed up with Deku's exasperating silence, Bakugo let out an annoyed huff. "Why did you do that earlier?! Why did you take that hit?" he demanded.

Deku took a long moment to respond. His voice was still a little more subdued than normal. "...I was getting too mad," he finally said, though it wasn't much of an explanation.

"So?" Bakugo demanded again. "What, were you afraid of hitting me back? Worried you might actually _hurt_ me or some shit?" He scoffed. "Fuck you, Deku."

"...No," Deku replied, once again taking his time. "I just...I didn't want to win like you."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"...I dunno. You always win out of anger. Every time. You just get so angry. ...Like you lose control or something. ...I was doing the same thing. Or about to, at least. And...I didn't want to win like that...like you."

"...What the fuck are you talking about, you idiot? Get the hell out of here with that shit. There's nothing wrong with tapping into anger for a win, you effing moron. You should try it sometime, you goddamn wuss, what the hell's your problem."

Deku just sighed, and Bakugo fumed a little further.

"Well, guess what, you idiot," Bakugo added a moment later. "All Might said you're going to have to take a page from my book if you're seriously aiming for the number one spot. Weren't you listening to anything he said at Ground Beta, asshole? You can't just be a weakling pushover all the time, you have to want to win. And actually effing try. Goddamn. You and Icy Hot and your goddamn, stupid-ass superiority complexes."

Deku was silent again a moment. "...Do you really think I can do it?" he asked quietly. "...Become Number One?"

"What?" Bakugo scoffed. "No. Not if I have any goddamn thing to say about it. You think I'm just gonna back down and hand you the spot? Think again, asshole."

"But...if I do...become Number One," Deku continued, sounding even slower and duller than usual, "what will that mean for you? Will my plans...Will who I have to become...ruin everything for you...? Your goals and dreams...?"

Bakugo blinked and stayed quiet a moment. "Look, shitty Deku, you're clearly loopy as shit right now from whatever the hell the old lady gave you. Just...stop talking. Go to sleep."

...

"...None of that was true, by the way."

"Huh?"

"...All that talk of me throwing 'Fuck yous' in your face. That wasn't true. At all. Any of it. I can't believe you'd think that."

...

"Yeah, you're definitely out of it if you're throwing out the 'F-bomb' tonight. Just go to sleep already."

"'Kay, Kacchan...G'night."

Bakugo released a short breath through his nose. Stupid nerd. He rolled over, actually pleased to find sleep claim him much sooner than expected.

* * *

 **Let's see, a few points about this chapter. Well, we all know Bakugo just sucks at feelings. Like, he's the literal worst. I really want this story to be all about character development, but really, the only way for Bakugo to ever realistically show anything less than animosity towards Deku (which I've been dying to see/show), is if something traumatic happens to 'the shitty nerd.' But I had this all planned from the beginning, so it's finally time for the angsty plot to kick in with this story.**

 **And it's actually really fun trying to balance Bakugo's never-failing animosity with his 'Oh crap, I don't actually want anything to _happen_ to Deku.'**

 **Kudos to the boys for at least attempting to have a civil training session together. Maybe they'll actually get there someday.**

 **And, sidenote, wasn't the animation of Bakugo's face after Izuku announced his hero name as 'Deku' in the anime just absolutely *perfect?* (Not sure if it came straight from a frame in the manga or not, but it was perfect either way.)**

 **Thanks so much for the positive feedback to chapter 4, by the way! I'm always grateful for your comments, and it's so fun delving into these characters with you guys. This is one of the very few times where I've been able to sustain fairly consistent and lengthy writing purely out of enjoyment for myself. However, if my writing happens to slow a bit from this point (hopefully no slower than bi-weekly updates), let me just preemptively throw out my excuses here: I'm a mom to two toddlers, I work part-time as a dental hygienist, I have a husband who likes and needs attention, and we are currently adding on to our home. So, any writing I'm able to get in is always on stolen time. Which, I'm sure is the case for pretty much everyone, right?**

 **Thanks so much for reading! I don't have many friends in this fandom, so any thoughts you're willing to share on these characters, I'd love to hear them!**


	6. Feelings Amongst Flu

Izuku woke the next day feeling fairly well-rested and more back to normal than he expected. His head still ached, but not bad enough to warrant missing class over. Although Recovery Girl did forbid him from training that morning. Which sucked to miss out on, but he figured he wouldn't be too productive anyway, with the mild dizziness that still lingered.

He popped a few ibuprofen, deciding he wasn't in enough pain to risk the drowsiness that accompanied Recovery Girl's pain pills. It would be pointless to attend class all loopy and unable to focus.

He and Kacchan didn't speak much in the brief moments they passed each other while getting ready that morning. But Izuku could feel Kacchan's eyes linger on him just a little longer than normal. And not exactly in his usual seething manner, either. It was more as if he was wanting to get a read on how Deku was feeling without having to stoop to actually asking him.

Izuku knew Kacchan would never intentionally show outright worry over him. But through his hazy memories of the previous day's events, Kacchan had almost seemed...uncharacteristically concerned over the hit Izuku had taken. And maybe that was because he was initially afraid he may have accidentally killed Izuku and was at risk of being expelled, but Izuku thought there might have been a little more to it than that. The way Kacchan had torn Izuku a new one for backing out and taking that hit...yeah, it could have merely been wounded pride speaking, but it almost seemed as if there was fear behind Kacchan's angry words. Fear that he had actually seriously injured Izuku. Sure, Kacchan had beat up on Izuku countless times in the past, but never with the aim of legitimately hurting him. Never anywhere close to the point of causing a concussion. Granted, Kacchan hadn't exactly been _nice_ in his unwilling show of concern, but his frightened yelling, his insistence on Izuku going to the med bay, his checking up on Izuku after his bouts of vomitting...it all almost seemed as if Kacchan kind of, _might_ have cared a little bit. Or at least felt a small trace of remorse for delivering such a hard blow.

And maybe it was silly of Izuku to find surprise in the fact that Kacchan didn't actually want to kill him or even hurt him to the point of needing medical attention. Like, of course Kacchan didn't really want that, right? Why should Izuku find that so surprising? Kacchan was still human, despite his uncanny abilities and unfailingly heated temperament. He was seeing more and more snippets of Kacchan's hidden humanity everyday. And besides, there was a whole world of difference between disliking someone and wanting them dead, after all. Hadn't Kacchan already admitted the other night he never actually meant his suggestion to Izuku of offing himself? Of course, Kacchan still hadn't apologized for his hurtful words, or come anywhere near an apology, really, but still, it was all a pretty far cry from Bakugo's usual outright hostility and indifference Izuku had grown so accustomed to.

It made Izuku actually feel...almost kind of glad, reflecting on all that. Happy, in a small way. Like achieving the impossible might not actually be as hopeless as it initially appeared.

It almost felt like maybe, perhaps, dare Izuku say...they'd made a _snippet_ of progress? Maybe? Izuku was going to go ahead and call it progress. Kacchan didn't actually want him dead, and he'd seen convincing evidence with his own eyes. Confirmed fact. Progress.

Okay, well, that was all well and good, but Kacchan regretting hurting him definitely wasn't the most disconcerting aspect of their sparring match the previous day. No, it was the argument that had led up to it.

What on earth had Kacchan been going on about?! Claiming literally everything Izuku did was a dig against him? What? Did he seriously—how could he honestly—where the heck had he come up with such nonsense?!

Who in their right mind could honestly misinterpret any of Izuku's actions as being even remotely similar to Kacchan's? As being even on the same hemisphere of the earth as Kacchan's? As being even on the same plane of reality as Kacchan's?!

'Stealing' his moves, not deeming Kacchan worthy of his retaliation as kids, patronizing him by continuing to call him 'Kacchan' after all these years, choosing Kacchan's personal insult for him as his hero name, being acknowledged by All Might and secretly chosen to be his successor...

How could Kacchan honestly think _any_ of that was in any way directed at him—was in any way meant to be hurtful towards him? How could he really think that?! How _long_ had he thought that? Did he even _know_ Izuku at all? He should—they'd been part of each other's lives for as long as they both could remember.

Had Izuku inadvertently done something to sway Kacchan's completely misguided thinking? Had he unknowingly slighted Kacchan that bad in the past? He had only ever tried to be nice to Kacchan, despite the constant bullying and rejection of his friendship. He couldn't recall a single instance of Kacchan justifiably misjudging his actions as malicious. And that's simply because no instances like that existed. Izuku had only ever been tolerant of Kacchan. He'd only ever been kind and supportive. How could Kacchan really have misread everything to the point of complete distortion?

Honestly, it really bothered Izuku. It...hurt, if he was being completely honest.

And...it kind of shed new light on Kacchan's unfailing hostility toward him through the years.

Izuku always thought that it was just how Kacchan was. That he shouldn't take his animosity so personally because he hadn't done anything, and Kacchan was just impossible and mean without cause.

But...that wasn't the case in Kacchan's eyes. To Kacchan, all his actions had been provoked. Justified. Because according to him, Izuku had been playing right alongside him, all these years, subtly and slyly plotting how he could even the score time and again.

It was ridiculous.

How could someone as smart and perceptive as Kacchan be so far off base in his observations and judgments? Kacchan was normally so good at reading people. Why was Izuku such a blind spot for him?

...Was Kacchan merely in denial? Could that be it? Instead of accepting Izuku's well-meaning intentions and disinterest in retaliation because it made absolutely no sense to him, perhaps Kacchan found it easier to simply twist it all into something seemingly malicious? Or maybe he just really wasn't capable of comprehending a mindset so different from his. And because of his inability to understand, all he could do was continue looking at things and interpreting them through his own competitive, vindictive lens.

Either way, it was extremely perplexing and bothersome.

Izuku couldn't help throwing sidelong glances Kacchan's way all throughout class. He wanted to talk to him. Or at least grab him by his infuriatingly stubborn blond head and shake all those crazy, baseless accusations right out of him. Shake him till he could see just how wrong he was.

But he knew he couldn't do that. Kacchan would blow him away on the spot for one thing, and for another, everything needed to be approached with such caution when Kacchan was involved.

All he could do for now was hope Kacchan really had believed him the previous night when he'd been out of it on pain meds. When he'd stressed how untrue all of Kacchan's claims were.

He'd try to broach the subject again in the near future. He'd try to make sure Kacchan really understood Izuku's true intentions behind his actions—that they were _never_ meant to be hurtful to his childhood friend. That it had honestly never even occurred to him that they might be. Anything and everything he'd ever done was only in the hopes of pursuing his dreams to become a hero. And to be kind and helpful to everyone around him—Kacchan included—in the meantime.

Regardless though, it was actually good all of that had been brought up. It was good it was out in the open now. It gave him such a better understanding of Kacchan than he'd ever had before. And hopefully...hopefully Kacchan was starting to understand him a little better now, too.

* * *

The rest of the day passed without incident, and both boys seemed content to gloss over the previous day's events for the meantime.

The following day saw the boys behaving rather civilly as well, mostly due to the lack of communication between them. Neither of them were sure what terms they really stood on with each other currently, and Izuku was too timid to bring it up. But the unspoken almost-truce between them had been a nice change of pace for once, and he wasn't keen on ruining it. He didn't know how long Kacchan would continue to feel bad about the whole concussion thing, but he was fine with taking advantage of the lessened animosity for now.

It was sometime after dinner later that evening that Izuku found himself in the boys' bath area. The kids had had a fairly rigorous round of capture the flag during class earlier, and combined with the soreness Izuku still felt from Kacchan's blow on Sunday, he was more than anxious for a long soak.

And it felt nice. Quite nice, in fact. He was surprised he didn't take advantage of the spa more often. And he was also surprised he was the only one in there at the moment. But he supposed it was kind of an odd time to be using it. Most of his classmates were either still eating or doing homework. Which, speaking of, Izuku had better get going on his own soon as well. It was too tempting to spend the rest of the evening doing nothing in there, and he didn't really have the time for that. Oh yeah, that was why he didn't use the spa too often. Because it inevitably ended up feeling like wasted time.

He finally drew himself from the water, his muscles feeling quite a bit looser, and pulled his clothes on in the locker area.

It was as he was about to emerge into the common area that he heard raised voices nearby. Well, he heard _a_ raised voice. And he didn't need more than one guess as to who it might have belonged to. He paused at the doorway a moment, listening, wondering what had set Kacchan off.

"—the hell do you even know his mom's name, anyway?"

"Uh, I dunno. Internet sleuthing?"

"Sero's, like, freakishly good at crap like that." That was Kaminari.

Izuku peeked around the doorframe. They were gathered at the main couch, Sero at the center, while Kaminari, Kirishima, and several other classmates huddled fairly close nearby. Kacchan stood behind the couch, glaring down over Sero's shoulder.

"That's not creepy at all," Kacchan spat. "What the hell are you even looking for?"

"I figured if I could find just one picture of the two of them, or just one article that might mention her, that would be proof enough."

"Of what?"

"Midoriya's relation to All Might, duh," Kaminari offered.

Kacchan's voice took on an irate edge Izuku hadn't heard in a few days. "You're not seriously still going on about that, are you?"

"Well, I mean, didn't you see him during that last round of CTF earlier?" Sero explained a little hastily. "He managed to capture Iida, rescue Tsu, Jiro and Koda, grab the flag and get it back to base, all while somehow managing to dodge both Todoroki and Tokoyami at the same time. His speed's gotten pretty insane. And that kind of speed combined with the super strength behind his quirk...I dunno, it's just a little _too_ reminiscent of All Might's."

It took Kacchan a moment to reply, which was never a good sign. "...I thought I told you assholes to cut it out with the All Might comparisons." There was a rage behind those words he was clearly fighting to keep at bay.

Kaminari scoffed. "Just because you hate the idea so bad I can practically see smoke coming out of your ears, doesn't mean it might not be true."

"Shut the hell up, Sparky!" Kacchan's grip on his restrained rage was obviously quickly slipping. "What the fuck is wrong with you assholes? Did you ever think to try _asking_ him? Goddamn! What the hell do you think you're doing sneaking around behind his back, looking for pictures of his goddamn mom on the goddamn internet? Deku's never been a shady son of a bitch, unlike you assholes, so why don't you just try asking him yourself, for fuck's sake." He paused a moment, taking a heated breath. "Seriously, people think _I'm_ the tactless asshole of the class, but look at you douchebags—poking around in Deku's business when you don't know shit about his situation with his real dad!"

Kacchan seemed at a loss for further words after all that. He heaved another furious breath before immediately turning on his heel and stalking away. Izuku dropped back behind the doorway, wanting to avoid being seen.

The others were silent for a long, uncomfortable moment.

"Dang..." Sero finally said, sounding contrite. "I never thought I'd see the day we'd be rightfully scolded by Bakugo..."

"Yeah, no kidding..." Kirishima agreed after another long moment. "He's right. It is a really bogus move of us to be looking into all this crap behind Midoriya's back. He's our friend. We should be able to either ask him outright or just drop it."

"Yeah..." Kaminari agreed. "I'd...totally ask him to his face, but...I actually don't know anything about his situation with his dad."

"Me neither..." Kirishima replied, his voice regretful. "It never even occurred to me that the All Might comparison rumors might actually be a little hurtful for Midoriya."

"Yeah...dang," Sero said remorsefully. "...Time to let the rumors rest, I think."

Izuku hung back another long while before showing his face in the common area. He really didn't want anyone feeling further embarrassed or ashamed because of him, and he planned to play it all off as if he hadn't heard anything at all.

He wasn't offended by their snooping, really. It was only natural to see the similarities between his and All Might's quirk and to wonder.

But Kacchan... His objection to their friends' queries had been another undeniable example of his unusual, hidden decency. He had actually...stood up for Izuku. Izuku would hardly have believed it if he hadn't just seen it with his own eyes. Kacchan was keeping his promise to All Might and him. He was really going to help keep their secret under tight wraps. Even if it meant going out of his way to berate his friends.

Izuku felt a flush of gratitude warm his insides. He...never would have expected a showing of outright almost-kindness from Kacchan on his behalf. It was the most foreign feeling ever, and honestly, Izuku couldn't help feeling a little touched. He knew he shouldn't, really. Kacchan hadn't known Izuku had overheard him, and he knew he'd have been furious if he caught him listening. But even so...it was the nicest thing Kacchan had ever said about him, even if it was behind his back, and Izuku wasn't going to forget it anytime soon.

Of course, he couldn't point it out or bring it up to Kacchan. That would be a big mistake. It was like he had reasoned the other day—if Kacchan was going to offer rare moments of almost-niceness, Izuku was going to continue being extremely careful with how he responded.

He couldn't outright thank him. That would backfire, no doubt. But he could try to show his gratitude in other ways. He could try to make their forced time together more tolerable for Kacchan. In small ways. He knew Kacchan hated it when he talked too much. He couldn't stand it when he mumbled. He hated when Izuku moved around too much at bedtime, or when he left dirty socks on the bathroom floor, or let his study area overflow with untidiness.

Right, then, Izuku would start paying better attention to all the little things along those lines. He'd try his hardest not to annoy Kacchan as much. It was a pretty weak form of a thank you, but it was at least something. It was at least some small way for Izuku to show his gratitude.

And it actually seemed to go quite well at first. Izuku avoided speaking unless Kacchan addressed him first. He paid extra special attention to his muttering tendencies during class and study time. He kept his bed, desk and the bathroom impeccably tidy. He didn't sit too close to Kacchan at lunch and he didn't ever bother him about appeasing Aizawa or Iida.

And they had several more days of incident-free, civil co-existing. It was nice, in a way. Falling into a fairly stable routine free of the usual clashes and outbursts. Granted, they weren't talking much with Izuku's new resolve of leaving it up to Kacchan to initiate conversation, but at least they weren't fighting.

Kacchan at first seemed not to notice Izuku's new efforts. Or not to care. But as the week passed, Izuku once again felt Kacchan's eyes linger longer on him as he straightened his desk, or flipped off his lamp without comment for the night.

It was another couple evenings later, towards the end of the weekend, that Izuku turned away from his dresser and accidentally collided with Kacchan emerging from the bathroom.

Kacchan grunted in annoyance as he stepped back, letting Izuku pass, and waiting for an apology.

Izuku didn't offer one, however. He knew it would only annoy Kacchan further, so he chose to merely brush past him, heading to his desk.

Kacchan huffed as his eyes followed Izuku across the room. "Tch. What the hell's your problem? Why have you been acting like such a little bitch lately?"

Izuku paused, turning to glance at him. "Huh?"

"Normally you can't shut your damn mouth to save your life, but you haven't said shit to me all week."

"Oh, uhh..."

"What, are you still pissed about Sunday? That was your own effing fault, you know. If you weren't such a dumbass-wuss it wouldn't have happened. It's not like I meant to give you an effing concussion, you moron."

Izuku's brows pinched slightly. Had his recent quiet demeanor been misinterpreted as silent treatment? Was this a weak attempt at something close to an apology...?

"Don't get me wrong, the only time you're even remotely close to tolerable is when your trap's kept shut, but this whole 'silent treatment' thing is bullshit and annoying as hell. What are you, twelve?"

"Huh?"

Kacchan was growing more irritated. "Goddamn, are you deaf or just that effing slow? Just answer my goddamn question. What the hell put you in such a bitchy mood this week? I didn't do shit to you."

Izuku was growing more confused by the minute. "I...don't know what you're talking about...?"

"Oh my freaking God, you're seriously going to resort to the whole 'playing dumb' shit again? Do you think I'm that stupid? God, you are the most annoying fuck ever, do you know that?" Kacchan fumed as he turned for his dresser.

Izuku's eyes followed him, all creased with bewilderment.

"Kacchan, what are you _talking_ about?" Izuku demanded. "The only reason I've been less talkative the last few days is because I know you prefer it when I'm quieter."

"Eh?"

"I was trying to be nice, you know? Considerate. Maybe make this whole crappy situation a little more bearable for you."

Kacchan just stared at him with narrow eyes. "Bullshit. Why in the hell would you randomly decide to be _nice_ to me?"

"Kacchan, when have I ever been anything but nice to you?"

"Shut up, asshole."

"I was just trying to pay attention to the stuff I do that really annoys you," Izuku explained, "and you know, maybe do less of it?"

Kacchan's eyes narrowed further with suspicion. "...Why?"

"Just to repay you...for..." Izuku immediately trailed off, having momentarily forgotten his resolve not to mention what he'd overheard in the common room.

"Huh?"

"Just...because."

"Repay me for what?" Kacchan demanded.

Izuku let out a resigned sigh. _Here we go again._ "I overheard you in the common room the other day," he explained, his voice all hesitation. "I didn't mean to," he quickly added. "But, I—I heard you telling the guys off for wondering about my relation to All Might." Izuku winced slightly as he raised his eyes to meet Kacchan's.

Kacchan's face pinched with a look of disgust. "You were eavesdropping?" he demanded, his breathing quickly picking up.

Izuku sighed again and attempted to stifle a slight eye-roll. He really didn't want to get into it that night. They'd been on a fairly impressive confrontation-free streak lately. He didn't want to ruin it.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, shithead. Why were you eavesdropping?!"

"I didn't _mean_ to, Kacchan," Izuku explained, trying not to sound as exasperated as he felt. "I was just trying to get back to our room, but I didn't want to embarrass everyone by showing up in the middle of that conversation."

Kacchan only glared at him, his shoulders heaving.

"Look, I'm sorry I overheard words that weren't meant for me," Izuku explained, hoping he could smooth the situation over before it had a chance to escalate. "I know crap like that is always a bogus move to pull, and I really didn't mean to. But regardless..." Izuku dropped his gaze, knowing he was about to enter the danger zone. "I was grateful." He took another resigned breath. "Grateful for your help with my situation with All Might... And grateful...that you stuck up for my parents."

Kacchan's breathing continued heavily for another long moment as he kept staring. "You effing asshole," he finally spat. "You think I said any of that shit for you? You think I was _defending_ you, you stupid son of a bitch?!"

Another defeated sigh. "No..." Izuku offered, turning towards his bed. "I don't really care why you said it, it doesn't matter. I was still grateful." He climbed in bed, turning away from Kacchan. "I just wanted to show my thanks by trying not to bug you so much this week...that's all."

He could still hear Kacchan's fuming breaths across the room. He seemed to be fumbling for words. A long pause passed before Kacchan finally settled on throwing out a "Fuck you, Deku," for lack of anything else to say.

Izuku just ignored him, pulling his pillow closer.

"God, you are—you're such an effing—" Kacchan was still struggling with his words, incredulous as he was.

...

"Fuck. Just cut it out with the silent shit, will you? It's only pissing me off more!"

"You're always telling me to shut up, and then when I actually do, it only ends up annoying you more..? That makes zero sense."

"Because now I know you're only doing it to try and get on my good side, shithead. So, knock it off. I don't have one, and if I did, there's not a chance in hell you'd ever find yourself on it."

Izuku sighed.

Kacchan crossed the room in two strides, gripping Izuku's shoulder and pulling him around to look at him. "Do you want to die, fucktard? What the hell is your problem?!"

Izuku didn't falter. "Kacchan, I'm clearly not the one with the problem right now!" He couldn't keep his voice from rising. "You need to learn to just accept people doing something nice for you for once, and not make it into some huge issue. It's really not that big of a deal! It doesn't mean you're weak, and it doesn't mean you'll ever owe me anything. Okay? Just let it go..." He jerked his shoulder free—not too harshly, and turned back away.

Kacchan only stood there staring, muttering expletives under his breath for a long moment before finally managing to tear himself away and stomp off to bed.

* * *

Once again, the following day, the boys chose to ignore their latest confrontation and pretend it hadn't happened. It was easier that way, being forced to live together. Being forced to share space and meet each other's eyes multiple times throughout the day, wondering what was going on in the other's head.

They fell back into a routine of tentative civility—tolerating each other for the most part and not whining about their situation. Izuku had given up his resolve of silence, still hardly believing how bothersome it had been to Kacchan. He really would never have guessed it would end up having the opposite effect he intended it to. He still attempted consideration upon choosing when to speak, and he was still very careful with his mumbling habits. When he happened to slip up in class or while studying, however, Kacchan didn't grip his arm like a vice anymore. He merely tapped Izuku with the back of his hand, neither looking up from his notes or saying anything.

They still attempted training together, but Iida and Todoroki had forbidden them from sparring. They could work in the same vacinity, and perhaps swap comments or observations on moves, but any type of competing with each other wasn't allowed. Too risky. Too potentially disastrous.

It was another several days later that Izuku awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of the window closing. His eyes blinked open, the darkness offering no explanation for his waking.

"...Kacchan?" he asked dully at the rustle of blankets, as Kacchan seemingly climbed back in bed.

"Shh."

"Wha's wrong?" Izuku asked, his sleep-addled brain filled with fog.

"Nothing. Shut up. Go back to sleep."

"...'Kay."

Izuku turned back to his pillow with a yawn. A drawn out moment stretched for a long while, Izuku not really sure whether sleep had claimed him again or not, when another sound drew him back to the darkness of the room. He wasn't certain what it was at first. A series of faint clicking of some sort. Quietly stopping and starting up again at even intervals. He listened curiously for a long time before it finally dawned on him through his clouded thoughts.

"Kacchan...are you...cold?" he asked, a hint of concern lining his voice.

"...No. Shut up," Kacchan replied through shivers, his voice unusually thick, even for it being the middle of the night.

"...Are you sick?" Izuku asked, drawing up a fraction as he turned further towards the bed across the room.

"No. Stop talking. Goddamn." More poorly-stifled shivers.

"...How did you get sick?" Izuku wondered aloud, dropping slowly back to his pillow while still listening closely to the shivering boy nearby.

"Ugh," Kacchan huffed, choosing to ignore him as he turned away. It sounded like it took effort.

Izuku let a silence fall between them again, but Kacchan's shivering was unrelenting, despite his obvious efforts at holding it back. It was difficult to fall asleep to. Not just because the chattering of Kacchan's teeth was loud and distracting, but also because Izuku couldn't help feeling concerned over it.

How had Kacchan gotten sick? They had class in the morning, and he knew Kacchan would have to be nothing short of lying on his death bed before he'd willingly opt to miss class.

They lay unmoving for a long time, the silence continually interrupted by Kacchan's shivering starting up again and again.

Finally, frustrated with not being able to fall back asleep and feeling sympathetic for Kacchan's miserable situation, Izuku abruptly pushed his covers aside and stood, heading for the closet. He reached for the top shelf, grabbing a spare blanket and turning for Kacchan's bed. He quietly draped the blanket over Kacchan's curled-up, trembling form, wishing he was asleep and wouldn't notice, but knowing he wasn't.

He was grateful when Kacchan didn't say anything and didn't refuse the blanket. He obviously needed it, and Izuku was worried his pride might have prevented him from accepting it. He was glad Kacchan chose to feign sleep. That way he could pretend he'd been completely unaware in the morning. Izuku knew it was always easier that way for Kacchan.

The morning came quickly and unwelcome, and Izuku was prompt to wake and silence his alarm, despite not wanting to get up anytime soon at all. He'd slept poorly and being awoken for an hour or so around 2:30 certainly hadn't helped anything.

He glanced over at Kacchan, still curled up under the extra blanket, the subtle rise and fall of his breathing steady. Izuku wondered when the shivering had finally let up. He vaguely wondered if Kacchan was running a fever. He undoubtedly had been during the night, what with the case of chills he'd been dealing with, but Izuku wondered if it had carried over to the morning.

He approached Kacchan's bed, peering down at his still face barely peeking out above the blankets. It was a wonder someone as volatile as Kacchan could look as peaceful and innocent as he did asleep. And young. It was sometimes easy to forget Kacchan was still just a kid, but he'd never looked more like one to Izuku before, all curled up and huddled in his blankets. Was it bogus for Izuku to admit he much preferred a sleeping Kacchan to a waking one? He'd be wise to keep that to himself, he noted.

He was tempted to reach out and feel Kacchan's forehead, but he was too afraid it would wake him. Kacchan would undoubtedly blow him away on the spot if he attempted checking his fever. Izuku decided it would be too intrusive to do so without permission, so he refrained. But he noted the flushed appearance of Kacchan's cheeks and his heavier than normal breathing.

Izuku set to changing, quietly readying to go train and hoping Kacchan had been smart enough to change his alarm and afford himself as much extra sleep as possible that morning.

He quietly snuck out and went about his morning routine. Training was productive, and breakfast was brief and toned-down. Izuku was a little grateful most of his classmates didn't seem particularly chatty or rambunctious that morning. He wasn't feeling much of either, himself.

When he arrived back at the room he was pleased to find Kacchan still asleep. He'd obviously needed the extra hours.

Izuku quietly gathered some clean clothes and headed for the shower. He was quick about getting ready, figuring Kacchan would likely be up shortly and eager to use the bathroom.

And sure enough, when Izuku emerged from the bathroom, Kacchan was sitting up in bed, miserably blinking the sleep from his eyes.

"Hey," Izuku greeted him, trying not to be too obvious as he studied him. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I'm ready to go run an effing marathon, what's it look like?" Kacchan responded gruffly. His voice was thick and raspy and his eyes looked bleary and bloodshot. Izuku felt for him.

"You running a fever?" He reached for him, knowing full well Kacchan would die before letting his hand make contact with his forehead.

Kacchan swatted at him, definitely much slower than usual, but still effective. "Touch me and die."

Izuku stifled a snort as he was blocked. He didn't know why there was something so tempting about teasing a sick Kacchan. He supposed it was because Kacchan was normally so averse to showing any signs of weakness of any sort. But there wasn't a whole lot he could do about being ill.

He felt bad for Kacchan and really didn't like seeing him sick, but there was something oddly gratifying about it at the same time. It must have been because it was another one of those fleeting glimpses of Kacchan's unexpected humanity. He was capable of getting knocked on his butt just like everyone else when the flu reared its ugly head.

"I brought you up some juice and a banana," Izuku said, gesturing towards Kacchan's desk. "Do you need to go see Recovery Girl for something for your fever? Do you want me to stop by there for you? Are you still planning on going to class?"

Kacchan slowly closed his eyes in a faint grimace. "Just...stop talking before I hurt you." He slowly drew his covers aside and forced himself to his feet, wincing all the way. It was pretty clear he probably shouldn't have been attempting to attend class that day.

Izuku eyed him warily as he slowly made his way to his dresser, his movements stiff and halting. "You sure you should be getting out of bed? You...don't look so great."

"This is the last warning I'm going to give you, shitty Deku. Patronize me one more time and I'm going to blow your shitty body up so hard, nothing—not even your shitty dental records, will be able to identify the smoldering pile of shit that will be all that remains of you."

Izuku had to try hard to stifle another laugh at that. He had to admit that was actually pretty funny. Kacchan was always mean, but if you could keep a thick skin about you, there was a lot of humor to pick up on behind his taunts. And maybe it was the fact that the threat was coming from a sick and practically incapacitated Kacchan that made it just a bit funnier; Izuku wasn't sure.

He left Kacchan to shower and get ready. Izuku knew there was no way Kacchan would stoop to visiting Recovery Girl over an illness. He always avoided the med bay at all costs if it could be helped. Again, no doubt because accepting help from Recovery Girl hinted at weakness. So Izuku decided he'd make a quick stop there before class and ask for some medicine for Kacchan, himself. It was likely he wouldn't accept it, or at least not take it, but Kacchan had seemed miserable enough that there was a small chance he might.

He was still among the first students to arrive in class, and he left the small paper bag from the med bay on Kacchan's desk.

Everyone gradually started trickling in, their chattiness a little more lively since breakfast, now that they were all more awake.

Kacchan finally sauntered in much later than usual but still on time. His gait was slow and tentative and he looked both pale and flushed at the same time. He really shouldn't have been there, he looked awful.

"Recovery Girl said that should help with your aches and fever," Deku said as Kacchan sat down next to him.

Kacchan eyed the bag but didn't say anything. He kind of looked like he might fall flat on his face at any moment.

The lecture began and dragged on, and Kacchan stayed hunched over, seemingly hardly able to keep his head off the desk. Izuku couldn't help eyeing him warily about every two seconds. He seemed miserable. He should have just let Izuku take notes for him and gone back to bed.

It was about an hour into class when Kacchan abruptly lurched forward a touch, his hand immediately drawing to his mouth.

Izuku's worried gaze snapped to him. "Hey," he whispered. "You okay?"

Kacchan sat frozen for a long moment, seemingly afraid to move before abruptly jumping to his feet and practically booking it for the door. He bent to grab the waste basket before flinging the door open and disappearing into the hall.

Mister Aizawa had paused, watching the scene with a hint of confusion as the rest of the class stared with raised brows.

Izuku drew to his feet, glancing worriedly at the door. "Kacchan's...sick today," he explained, making his way to the door. "I'm just gonna...see if he's okay."

He drew the door open and stepped into the hall only to be met by Kacchan a few feet away, slumped to his knees, face buried in the waste basket.

It looked like he wasn't quite done puking yet. His quivering shoulders heaved again and again, causing Izuku to wince each time. There was nothing worse than throwing up, and it was awful to witness as well.

Izuku stepped behind him, leaning down. "Hey," he said carefully. "You okay?"

Kacchan groaned and wiped his face. "What are you doing out here?" he asked weakly.

"Just...seeing if you need help." He should have known that was the wrong thing to say before it left his lips. Kacchan never needed help. 'Help' and 'Kacchan' should never even be mentioned in the same sentence. Izuku knew that. He'd just forgotten for a moment.

Kacchan turned to glare at Izuku, his anger still as prominent as ever, despite the fact he had just been puking up his innards mere moments ago. "Of course I don't need _help,_ asshole. Go back to class."

"Yeah, but I just—"

The classroom door opened and Kirishima emerged, concern etched all over his face. His brow furrowed further as his gaze fell on Kacchan on the floor.

"Bakugo!" Kirishima was at his side in an instant, kneeling close as a hand found his back. "You okay, man? What's goin' on?"

Kacchan didn't shrug Kirishima off him or threaten him with bodily harm for touching him. He just stayed hunched over the trash bin, letting Kirishima actually pat and rub his back.

Izuku just stood quietly by, watching.

"Hey, let's get you back to the dorms, buddy. Are you okay to get up?"

"...Yeah, just give me a sec."

Izuku watched them stand a moment later, Kirishima gripping Kacchan's waist as he helped him to his feet. Kacchan brushed him off as they stood, indicating he was fine to continue on his own, but he wasn't abrupt or rude about it.

Izuku watched them go a moment before slowly turning back for the classroom, wondering why exactly that whole scene had stung a little.

* * *

The day wore on and class actually seemed to pass fairly quickly.

Izuku took the small bag of medicine for Kacchan with him at the end of the day, hoping he might actually take it at some point that evening.

When he returned to their dorm room, he found the curtains drawn and Kacchan fast asleep in bed, snoring lightly. Izuku stepped carefully, crossing the floor to place the small bag of medicine next to the untouched juice and banana on Kacchan's desk.

He spent the evening in the common area, answering several questions about Kacchan's state and studying at one of the tables with a group of friends.

Dinner rolled around and Izuku figured he should try taking something up to Kacchan. He might feel up to eating.

He found Kacchan awake and sitting up in bed, several books strewn around him. Kacchan didn't raise his gaze to greet him.

"Hey," Izuku said tentatively, stepping inside the room.

Kacchan grunted in response, keeping his eyes on his homework.

"You feeling any better?" Izuku asked, and when Kacchan didn't respond, continued, "I brought you up some miso soup," Izuku said, gesturing. "In case you feel like eating."

Kacchan looked up, holding Izuku's gaze a brief moment. "Just put it over there," he said, nodding vaguely towards his desk.

Izuku placed the soup next to the untouched juice and banana. He noticed the medicine bag was still unopened as well. He wasn't sure why the sight stung a little again.

Izuku sat down quietly at his desk and took out some study materials. He'd already completed his homework downstairs, but he supposed it wouldn't hurt to get a little more studying in. Kacchan certainly wasn't going to be any type of company at the moment.

Several minutes later there was a knock at the door.

Izuku turned. "Come in," he called.

Kirishima opened the door and stepped inside. "Hey, guys," he greeted them, grinning. "How ya feeling, Bakugo?" he asked, stepping over to Kacchan's bed. He didn't really wait for an answer, seeming to know Kacchan never really answered questions like that. "I brought you some food, man. I hope you're up for eating."

Kacchan straightened up in bed and accepted the bowl Kirishima offered. His muttered "Thanks," was so faint and fleeting, it could have been very easy to miss. But Izuku didn't; he certainly heard it.

Izuku turned quietly back to his homework as Kacchan ate Kirishima's offered dinner and the two of them chatted for a bit. Izuku was surprised Kirishima's cheerfulness wasn't seeming to get to Kacchan at all. It was as if he was almost enjoying his company.

It was several minutes later that Kirishima announced he'd better get going. "Hope you feel better tomorrow, buddy," he said, clapping Kacchan's knee before rising from the edge of the bed. "'Night, Midoriya," he said with a brief wave, turning for the door.

Izuku turned, offering a faint wave as well. "See you tomorrow, Kirishima."

The door closed behind him, and Izuku couldn't help turning to stare at Kacchan. He wasn't entirely certain what his own gaze was holding, but it must have been something along the lines of a glare or a mildly hurt expression, because Kacchan's eyes immediately narrowed at him in response.

"The hell's your problem?" Kacchan demanded.

Izuku tried to clear his face of any incriminating emotion. He hadn't meant to share anything. He shook his head mildly and turned back to his books. "Nothing," he replied softly.

Kacchan just continued to glare. "Why the hell were you looking at me like that then, asshole? I didn't do shit to you."

Izuku stayed silent for a long moment. _Don't respond. Just let it go. Don't start up anything, not now. Not again._ He couldn't help it though. "I don't get it!" Izuku finally burst out. He turned back towards Kacchan, exasperated.

"What?" Kacchan sneered.

"All these years," Izuku explained hastily, "I told myself it wasn't me, it was you. It was just how you were. You didn't like people. You didn't need friends. No one was good enough for you, because you were you and no one else would measure up..."

Kacchan's eyes narrowed further, glowering. "What the fuck are you talking about, shitty nerd?"

"It wasn't you though..." Izuku continued, his gaze falling. "This whole time...it really was me, after all..."

"Huh?" Kacchan asked, and when Izuku didn't reply his patience wore thin. "Answer me, shithead. What the hell are you going off about now?"

"Nothing..." Izuku said, turning back to his homework, his shoulders slack.

"Bullshit. Just spit it out, asshole, I can't stand it when you do shit like this. If you're not going to finish whatever the fuck nonsense it is you're talking about, then don't bring it the hell up in the first place!"

Izuku sighed, already regretting continuing. "It's just...Kirishima..."

Kacchan waited a moment but Izuku had trailed off again. "What the hell kind of problem do you have with Kirishima?" he demanded.

"...I don't have a problem with Kirishima," Izuku replied. "He's probably the one of the nicest guys I've ever met," he explained.

"Then what the eff are you rambling about?!"

"It's just..." Izuku drew a resigned breath. "Why is he the only one you'll accept as a friend?"

Kacchan continued to stare, his glare etching every line of his face.

"I just don't get it," Izuku went on, his voice sounding pained, despite his efforts to keep it neutral. "I try to be nice by leaving you alone, and it makes you mad. I try to help you deal with a crappy illness and you completely blow me off. I honestly have no clue what else to try—"

"Then stop trying, dammit!" Kacchan cut in, his voice growing more heated by the second. "That's all you ever do! That's all you've ever _done_ our entire lives—try after effing try. With everything! You never learn your goddamn lesson and you never learn your goddamn place, and I'm sick as hell of your refusal to ever just fucking give up!"

Their eyes remained locked. Neither willing to back down from the other's intensity.

"How many freaking times do I fucking have to remind you, shitty Deku?" Kacchan spat out, his chest heaving. "We're not—"

"Friends?" Izuku cut in, his eyes glittering. "Right. I heard you the last time. And every other time before that." He held Kacchan's gaze steady, willing not to let his own glare grow too indignant.

"Then why the fu—"

"No," Izuku interjected, forcing himself to maintain a hint of calm. "You listen to me for once," he continued through heavy breaths. "Your friendship with Kirishima really did make me think that I was the problem. That I was never strong enough, never good enough to be your friend. That being quirkless made me permanently unworthy of you."

Kacchan's breathing was so tight, and he looked like he might blow up half the room at any moment, but Izuku pressed on.

"But you know what? I've realized it's not me. I've realized none of that even matters... I know you're only going to hate me even more for saying this, but I don't care anymore. I don't care how much you reject me, I'm still your friend, Kacchan. I always have been your friend and I always will be. It doesn't matter that it isn't reciprocated; it doesn't matter that it will _never_ be reciprocated. I don't mind, I really don't anymore. Heroes don't stay helpful and kind and _good_ because they expect anything in return." Izuku's breathing had calmed a fraction, but he still refused to drop Kacchan's eyes. "And they never stop trying..."

And with that, Izuku stood, breaking their iron-locked gazes, and turned, leaving the room. He was too disheartened to stay. Too disheartened to put up with Kacchan's sour company any longer that evening.

But at the same time...he also felt strangely better than he had in weeks. Lighter, almost. Like a load he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying on his shoulders had lessened.

* * *

 **I thought the angsty plot was going to start up in this chapter, but it just ended up getting too long and needed to end. So, look for the angst to kick in next chapter.**

 **Things I personally enjoyed about this chapter: Bakugo defending Deku. Bakugo not being able to handle Deku's silence. Sick Bakugo. Deku's jealousy over Kirishima's friendship with Bakugo. And Deku actually voicing his feelings to Bakugo at the end. It was definitely past time for that.**

 **Thanks so much for your kind words in response to chapter 5! I'm so glad a few of you are enjoying this so far. It's been a fun one to write.**


	7. Parties, Threats and Nightmares

The following day saw the boys once again keeping their distance from each other as much as they were able. And eye contact was avoided at all costs.

Kacchan seemed to be feeling quite a bit better, though still a little under the weather—his flu seemed to have transitioned into more of a mild cold.

Izuku could have been wrong (as usual, Kacchan was proving difficult to get a solid read on), but Kacchan actually seemed to feel a little bad for how grumpy and rude he'd been while ill. He was acting a little less abrasive than usual—holding back a touch with insults and swearing just a little less. He'd even been considerate enough to dispose of the untouched juice and banana when Izuku wasn't around, and he must have taken them downstairs because Izuku never noticed them in the bin in their bedroom. Izuku had no idea if Kacchan was being intentionally and subtly thoughtful by that, but he figured he likely was.

Izuku always appreciated it when Kacchan made an effort to go a little easier on him (especially seeing as rare as it was), but it didn't really do a whole lot to lessen the hurt he'd felt the previous day. Kacchan had pretty much shoved every gesture of kindness Izuku had attempted to show him back in his face. All while accepting Kirishima's friendly efforts right in front of him, as if to rub it in.

But to be fair, Izuku knew he shouldn't have interpreted Kacchan's actions quite that harshly. Kacchan had been legitimately miserable yesterday. And he was already aware that Kacchan had previously accepted and acknowledged Kirishima as an equal and friend. It had never caused Izuku jealousy or frustration before—he had actually been glad for Kacchan when he initially noticed the two becoming close. It was so unlike him to treat a classmate as a worthy equivalent to himself, and he knew it was good for him. And Kacchan actually seemed to legitimately _like_ Kirishima (though, being honest, it was pretty impossible not to like Kirishima), which was kind of unprecedented.

Izuku supposed the reason he found Kacchan's actions the day before so bothersome was because Izuku had actually been _trying_ lately. He'd never really attempted putting effort into fixing things with Kacchan, because he'd never before been forced to, and he always figured it would just be a lost cause from the get-go. He'd previously just found it easier and more comfortable to avoid Kacchan as much as possible.

But this whole punishment of Aizawa's had put such a new spin on everything. Being forced to spend so much time together, Izuku realized there were a lot of things he not only admired about Kacchan (he admittedly had always admired Kacchan—that was nothing new), but there were quite a few things he found he actually _liked_ about him. Kacchan was funny. Once you realized there actually wasn't much true malice behind his words, you could surprisingly come to really appreciate his humor. And Kacchan had a lot of it. He was quick-witted and chock-full of dry sarcasm. He didn't always talk a whole lot, but the comments he did choose to share were usually, without fail, at least a little amusing. Izuku had grown to almost enjoy Kacchan's funny side. It was a characteristic he knew he was pretty sorely lacking in, himself, so he appreciated it when someone could get a laugh or a smirk out of him. And Kacchan was pretty good at it, even if it wasn't necessarily his aim to.

Izuku also really liked and appreciated how disciplined Kacchan was. He found Kacchan's drive with everything—school work, training progress, personal care and health—to be very inspiring, and to have a big motivating influence on himself. Izuku had always possessed a fairly impressive amount of drive, as well, but Kacchan's never-ceasing to push himself just a little harder everyday provided a bit of a competitive edge for Izuku—in a good way. Kacchan's thriving competence kept Izuku on his toes. He wanted to constantly keep up with him. He found Kacchan to be a good role model in that regard.

Izuku also liked how Kacchan didn't really hang on to ill feelings for the most part. Well, true, he had held on to his personal and perplexing childhood vendetta against Izuku all these years, but when it came down to their little tiffs and squabbles, Kacchan was surprisingly quick to forget a fight and let it go. He didn't see a need for dwelling on or rehashing issues too much, and while it might actually fall more under Kacchan just plain not caring, Izuku had kind of grown to like his straightforward and transparent behavior. It at least made him a little more predictable for the most part.

The more Izuku dwelt on Kacchan's words from the previous night ( _"That's all you ever do! Try after effing try. I'm sick as hell of your refusal to ever just give up!"_ ), the more Kacchan's hurtful actions yesterday almost seemed to make a little more sense.

Perhaps Kacchan's rejection of Izuku's attempts at caring for him wasn't solely due to Kacchan's dislike or contempt for him. The more Izuku thought about it, the more it seemed it might be yet another case of Kacchan's resentment towards Izuku's successes up to this point. Getting into UA, being acknowledged by All Might, slowly yet surely making One For All his own. Maybe Kacchan couldn't handle granting Izuku one more example of success by accepting his friendship. And considering it was the only one of Izuku's endeavors that Kacchan actually held control over, perhaps he just couldn't bear the thought of relenting. Of letting Izuku succeed in yet one more small way.

It actually...made a lot of sense to Izuku. Maybe Kacchan didn't even realize it and couldn't see his own resentment behind his actions. And maybe he still just plain didn't like Izuku, but Izuku suspected it was likely a mixture of both. And if that was the case, it might be lot more difficult, perhaps even near impossible, for Izuku to make any real progress at chiseling away at Kacchan's wall.

But at least Izuku could try to take everything a little less personally now? If Kacchan was slightly jealous of him, that had to mean he at least had a smidgen of respect for him, too, didn't it? Maybe?

Regardless, Izuku decided all he could really do was put the previous night's conversation behind him and move on. He would stick to his resolve though—he would never stop trying for an eventual reconciliation with Kacchan. He would continue to show Kacchan that he was, and always would be his friend—only this time he'd make sure to steer clear of having any expectations. Expectations only set you up for disappointment. And it was like he'd told Aizawa on the first night of their punishment—some people can't be forced into friendship. It really wasn't fair of him to expect Kacchan to reciprocate anything, or to be angry at him when he didn't. Kacchan shouldn't be forced if he truly didn't want anything to do with Izuku. Izuku would work on accepting that. And being okay with it. He could be okay with it. As long as he continued to be a good friend himself, and continued to emulate the actions of a true hero, he wouldn't have any regrets.

* * *

The remainder of the day passed without incident, and once they had a couple buffer days between their latest fight, the boys began warming to one another slightly again. Well, as much as you could call relatively polite tolerance 'warming,' anyway.

Kacchan apparently did feel pretty bad for his latest declaration of rejection towards Izuku, because one morning he ended up with 'extra food' again, and the next evening he actually asked Izuku if he was up for a second round of training to blow off steam. (Well, he didn't exactly ask—he more told him to just come with so Izuku could spot him on a couple moves, since he 'obviously had nothing better to do,' but Izuku decided that was beside the point.) Izuku was a little taken aback by it, but Kacchan could sometimes be so casual about the most unexpected things, and Izuku quickly learned to play those surprising times off like they weren't a big deal and didn't necessarily equate to progress. And Kacchan seemed to appreciate that. Or at least seemed somewhat less annoyed by Izuku for it.

When they entered the common area that evening after training, the room was full of liveliness and laughter. It was Yaoyorozu's birthday, and they were getting ready for a little party later that evening. Well, Sato was at least working on a cake in the kitchen, and the girls had put up a birthday sign and balloons, but for the most part, everyone seemed to be goofing off in the meantime.

Izuku quickly realized the reason for the excessive laughter. They seemed to be playing some type of tickle tag game or some such silliness. Which was definitely his cue to make himself scarce, if ever he needed one. He hoped he could make his way to the stairs unnoticed.

"Hey, there you two are!" Ashido suddenly exclaimed in their direction.

Both he and Kacchan stopped in their tracks.

"Ah, great timing!" Kaminari said, looking up from where he, Hagakure, Ashido and Sero had Todoroki pressed against the couch. Izuku vaguely wondered how on earth Todoroki had gotten caught up in the mess of a tickling game.

"We've discovered Todoroki is actually capable of something close to laughter if you can keep him pinned for longer than ten seconds, and now we just have to see who's more ticklish out of the two of you," Kaminari explained, aiming a (rather intimidating) finger at them.

"Midoriya, for sure," Izuku heard someone say.

"Who the heck would even dare to attempt tickling Bakugo—?" someone else asked.

Izuku was quick. "Kacchan was deathly ticklish as kids," he immediately threw out, drawing a hand up to point to the boy next to him.

That got their attention. He hardly noticed Kacchan's gaze immediately snap to him, accusing and incredulous. Izuku couldn't believe he actually had some 'dirt' on Kacchan from their childhood that proved to be advantageous.

"Ha, no kidding?" Kirishima was already advancing menacingly as Kaminari hopped over the couch, a threatening smirk (that came close to rivaling one of Kacchan's own) plastered across his face.

Izuku turned vaguely towards Kacchan for a brief moment and offered a half-wave, half-salute as he was already stepping out of the way. "See ya," he said, half-laughing through his condolences.

Kacchan had actually taken a step back. "If you assholes value your shitty lives at all—"

Izuku wasn't sure how Kirishima managed to get Kacchan in a headlock and on the ground so quickly, but his hardened weight must have been a huge advantage. Kacchan barely managed to get an angry roar out before several of their classmates were on him.

He could have stopped them, but he must have realized the collateral damage would undoubtedly include at least half of the common area, as well as injuries to the kids pinning him, so he was smart to exercise what restraint he could manage, and attempt to fend off their tickling without his quirk.

Kacchan's genuine laughter—without any malice behind it, was probably one of the rarest sounds Izuku could recall hearing. It was a surprisingly infectious laugh. It was a good laugh—a lot lighter than you'd expect from him, and it made him sound as young as he was for once. He heard one of the girls comment on how surprisingly cute it was, and he legitimately feared for all of their lives when they decided to let up.

"Shit—I will—fucking—kill you— _all!_ " Kacchan somehow got out between bouts of laughter. His weak threats through that inviting laugh of his only seemed to encourage the others more.

Izuku carefully snuck past it all with a nervous laugh and all but booked it upstairs.

Kacchan eventually entered their room several minutes behind him, looking tousled and fuming. Izuku kind of attempted to hide the smirk that pulled at his lips upon seeing him, but didn't quite succeed.

"What, you thought that was funny, jackass?" Kacchan demanded, tossing his gym bag aside.

"That was a little funny, yeah," Deku admitted, throwing his sweatshirt in his hamper. "I can't believe they had the guts to actually pull that on you," he snickered.

"Nice one, by the way, asshole—throwing me under the bus to save your own ass," Kacchan stated through a glare. "And after all your hero talk the other day about always being helpful and shit. Bullshit."

"Ah. Well. There's exceptions to everything." Izuku shrugged, failing to stifle a laugh again. He could still hardly believe their classmates would even dare attempt a tickle attack against Kacchan, let alone be successful with it. Izuku could think of few things more dangerous. He was pretty impressed.

And it was one more thing to add to his mental list, 'Unexpected Moments of Surprisingly Normal Human Behavior, Featuring Katsuki Bakugo:' Kacchan could still be reduced to a squirming mess of laughter when tickled. Who would have thought?

"You ever share anymore childhood shit with anyone and I'll not only make you regret following me to UA, I'll make you regret the day your mom ever moved your shitty toddler ass into my neighborhood, got that?" Despite the threat, Kacchan surprisingly didn't seem _quite_ as angry as Izuku expected. Maybe the forced laughter was actually good for him—got some of his pent up crap out or something. Izuku wasn't sure, but he knew he'd be wise to keep that to himself.

Izuku turned for the bathroom, ready to shower. He was fairly quick about it, and dressing and combing his hair didn't take too much time either. He knew Kacchan became impatient waiting, no matter how quickly Izuku went, but he still tried to hurry.

He made use of some study time while Kacchan took his turn in the shower, and he was pretty pleased with the amount of productivity he pulled off in the relatively short time.

When 7:30 rolled around, Izuku decided he better head back downstairs and see if they were about ready to light candles and sing to Yaoyorozu.

He was surprised when Kacchan actually pushed away from his desk before him, standing and grabbing the sweatshirt draped over his chair. He pulled it on as Izuku stood and tucked his chair in.

He was about to ask Kacchan if he was actually planning on joining everyone for Yaoyorozu's party, but he stopped himself. If he acted surprised, it might make Kacchan think no one was expecting him or necessarily wanting him to show. Which wasn't the case.

Izuku stepped for the door, planning instead to just tell Kacchan he'd see him downstairs. But he stopped himself once more. If he acted like he was expecting Kacchan to go, it might only end up deterring him by wanting to prove Izuku wrong.

Gah, he had to approach everything so carefully when Kacchan was involved. It was a little exhausting, but Izuku liked to think he was at least starting to get a slightly better handle on all of Kacchan's nuances.

"Yeah, I'm going downstairs, you idiot, what do you care?" Kacchan said, brushing past him. It was as if he had somehow read Izuku's mind during his brief hesitations. "It's not a big deal, so don't make it one. It's just boring as hell up here."

Kacchan strode down the hall and disappeared around the corner. Izuku followed after, pleased to see Kacchan was finally coming out of his heavier-than-usual anti-social tendencies. He'd been in a fairly troubling funk ever since the licensing exam and Ground Beta, and it was good to see he was kind of coming out of it.

The get-together for Yoayorozu was lively and amusing, if not quite as rambunctious as it might have been, had it fallen on a weekend. Ashido traipsed around planting party hats on anyone who held still long enough, as several of the kids lounged on the couches, mostly ignoring the movie the girls had picked out. Mineta had somehow caught Kacchan's flu and was the only classmate absent (much to the relief of Yaoyorozu, Izuku suspected, though she was likely too nice to admit it.).

Kacchan had planted himself on one of the smaller couches and remained pretty much buried in his phone. He looked up every now and then to acknowledge something Kirishima said, or to argue with Kaminari, but mostly he kept to himself.

Hagakure called Todoroki over, asking if he wouldn't mind helping light the candles, and Jiro dimmed the lights.

Izuku found himself next to Ochako as they gathered around the table. Yaoyorozu beamed as they sang, hands clasped against her chest. She seemed touched. It had been a nice gesture of the girls to put a party together. And nice of Sato to make such an awesome-looking cake.

Jiro slapped Kaminari's hand as he reached for the frosting, and turned to go grab a knife and paper plates. Ochako slipped away to grab the ice cream.

Izuku followed Kaminari over to the smaller couch, stepping behind it and aiming to catch a bit of the movie while he waited for the cake to get passed around.

He definitely didn't mean to look, but something on Kacchan's phone in front of him caught his eye. Without thinking, he leaned forward and grabbed it out of Kacchan's hand to get a better look.

"What the—" Kacchan began, whipping around to see who'd been gutsy enough to interrupt his reading. He immediately snatched his phone back. "Hands off, _Deku_ , what the hell do you think you're doing, touching my shit? And why the fuck are you creeping over my shoulder, asshole? Back off!"

"That was my home," Izuku said, hurriedly fishing his own phone out of his pocket. "What was that, our local news site?" he asked anxiously.

Why was there a news article with Izuku's apartment complex pictured..?

"It wasn't anything, why don't you mind your own goddamn business, moron?" Kacchan spat, quickly turning his phone dark and stuffing it away. It almost seemed like he was angrier at Izuku for spotting the article over his shoulder, more than for grabbing at his phone.

Distracted, Izuku turned away, bringing up his phone's browser. He could vaguely feel Kacchan eyeing him warily.

"Deku," Kacchan called as Izuku was starting to amble away, tapping at his phone.

Izuku half-turned back, eyes lifting for a brief moment. "Hm?" he asked, still tapping at his screen, opening their local news website.

"Come here." Kacchan drew to his knees, reaching over the couch as far as he was able. He snagged Izuku's shirt in a tight grip and wrenched him towards him, pulling the surprised and stumbling boy up and over the back of the couch and right onto a startled Kaminari's lap next to him.

"What the—" Kaminari exclaimed, drawing his arms up a moment too late to shield himself, as a squirming Izuku struggled to right and remove himself from the tangle of limbs.

"Kacchan—" Izuku said accusingly. "What the heck? Sorry, Kaminari," he offered, attempting to get to his feet, but Kacchan was instead pushing him back against the too-tight space between himself and Kaminari.

"Ow—dude," Kaminari complained, scooting as far as he was able to avoid being smashed.

"Sorry—ouch—Kacchan, what are you _do_ ing?" Izuku demanded as Kacchan effectively wedged him squarely in the middle of the couch.

"Here you go, Kaminari," Kacchan said. "You said you wanted to play some lame-ass games or some shit? Now that shitty Deku's onboard, all the other stupid extras will join."

"Oh, cool, you up for some games, Midoriya?" Kaminari brightened, squashing Izuku's left side as he tried to straighten a little.

"We haven't—even had cake yet," Izuku grunted, again trying to weasel his way free and draw to his feet. But whether intentional or not (and Izuku suspected it was, though he couldn't fathom why), Kacchan was making it difficult for him.

Why the heck was Kacchan acting so weird? And where was his phone?

Izuku huffed, finally giving up on his attempts to rise from the couch. Kacchan's weight was effectively smashing half of him, and he wasn't letting him squirm away for some reason.

Izuku settled for probing around the couch behind him as best he could, looking for his phone.

"Don't touch me," Kacchan said, annoyed.

"You're the one who's crushing _me_ ," Izuku responded, indignant. "What'd you even pull me over here for?" He attempted turning to get a better look at the couch, but he was wedged too tightly between them. "I'm just—ugh—I'm looking for my phone. Do you have it, Kaminari?"

"No," Kaminari replied, taking a second to feel behind him.

Izuku kept searching as best he could.

"Stop," Kacchan huffed, his patience running thin at the elbow Izuku kept jabbing into him. He threw several irritated pokes back at Izuku.

"Kacchan—cut it out," Izuku said, annoyed, as an uninvited hint of a laugh escaped him. He squirmed and nudged him away.

"Ah, that's right," Kaminari said, noticing. "We never got a chance to attack Midoriya earlier."

No sooner had Kaminari said it than Izuku suddenly found himself pinned facedown against the couch, Kacchan sitting solidly on top of him.

Izuku struggled to turn his head, gasping for a breath and not liking at all where this was going. "What—? Ow, Kacchan—get off—"

"Payback's a bitch, Deku." Izuku could practically hear the evil smirk behind his voice. Kacchan shifted, allowing Kaminari access to him. "Destroy the stupid nerd."

Izuku hardly got a chance to squeak out a protest before Kaminari laughed and was quick to oblige.

If Kacchan was aiming to make Izuku forget about that article by his strange behavior (which Izuku knew he was), it worked for a while. After nearly dying from getting the crap tickled out of him by Kaminari, and then having a massive piece of cake forced on him by all the girls who'd felt bad for his predicament, Izuku was pretty ready to call it a night.

He was tired and perplexed and he still hadn't had a chance to properly look for his phone. And everyone was getting a little rambunctious from the sugar starting to kick in.

He finally managed to sneak away from all the roughhousing and joined Iida and Todoroki quietly conversing at one of the nearby tables.

"Hey," Izuku said, pulling a chair up.

Todoroki nodded a greeting.

"Iida, do you mind if I borrow your phone for a sec? I can't find mine, and I need to look something up."

Iida pulled his phone out and unlocked it, handing it to him. "Sure, here."

"Thanks." Izuku opened the browser, once again typing in his city's local news website. He was scrolling for a moment, searching, when the phone was suddenly ripped from his hands.

Kacchan was standing above him. He tossed the phone back to Iida. "Here, you idiot," he said, brandishing Izuku's own phone. "It was wedged between the cushions."

"Oh, thanks," Izuku said, relieved. He reached for it, but Kacchan seemed reluctant to give it to him.

They both hesitated, Izuku raising a questioning brow as Kacchan seemed to be internally debating what to do.

Kacchan finally released an exasperated breath and reached down to grab Izuku's shirt again. He roughly pulled him up and out of the chair. "Come here," he said, shoving Izuku's phone in his hand and dragging him toward the stairs.

"Wait—Kacchan," Izuku stammered, glancing back briefly and noticing Todoroki's eyes following them. He struggled not to trip over his own feet. "What are you—"

"Just shut up and come with me," Kacchan ordered, finally releasing Izuku as they reached the stairs. He climbed to the second floor and Izuku followed, bewildered.

Kacchan led them to their bedroom and Izuku closed the door behind them.

"What the heck is up with you?" Izuku demanded, confused as all get-out.

Kacchan seemed frustrated as he paced for a moment. He didn't really have any other way to vent, so he settled with giving Izuku a shove towards his bed.

Izuku stumbled briefly before falling against it. He took a seat on the edge, looking up at Kacchan, annoyed and waiting for an explanation.

"You're gonna go straight to that shitty article, aren't you? Since you're a nosy son of a bitch."

"That article you were reading?" Izuku asked. "Yeah, I've been trying to get a chance to look it up all night. I know I saw a photo of my home. Of course I have to see what that's all about."

Izuku had unlocked his phone and was back on the browser, searching for the hundredth time.

"What the hell did you think you were doing, snooping over my shoulder like that? I should beat the shit out of you for that."

Izuku ignored him. He'd found the article.

"...Fine. Read it, then, you stupid little shit. But I'm telling you right now, Deku, don't go and make a big deal of it."

Kacchan roughly pulled his chair out and dropped down heavily at his desk.

Izuku scanned the article, his insides tense and clenching tighter with each new line of text. Apparently, over the last couple weeks there had been a series of break-ins in the apartment complex where he and his mom lived. And not the entire complex—only building 2. Their building. The first break-in occurred on the first floor, and several nights later, there was another on the second. And again, a few nights later, the same thing happened on the third. The incidents were all the same—the residents woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of a loud clatter from their living area. They went to investigate, only to be met with a blue-flamed fire set loose in their home. In all cases, a man with a 'disfigured, or horribly scarred face' was briefly glimpsed standing out on the veranda before vanishing. Fortunately, it seemed like the man wasn't actually aiming to cause serious trouble. The fires were all fairly small and extinguished rather quickly, causing minimal damage, and nothing else was reported harmed, broken or stolen. It was a mystery as to who the man was or what his intentions might be, and law enforcements were calling for help with any possible leads.

Izuku finished reading, his stomach a lump of ice, slowly sliding its way to his waist. The guy with the blue flames. From the attack at the training camp. With the League. "Oh my God..." His eyes slowly drew up to find Kacchan. "My mom...This is a threat against my mom—against me—!" He forced his frozen legs to stand, despite their sudden unsteadiness.

Kacchan had turned to face him again. "I told you not to get worked up about it, Deku," he said in a low, even voice, his eyes narrowing.

"How can I not get—" Izuku stammered, "It's just a matter of time until they reach the fifth floor—! Until—my mom—" Izuku broke off, his thoughts frantic and scattered. He fell into an anxious pace, muttering under his breath, trying to calm himself down and make sense of it all.

He covered the length of the floor in two strides and turned back again, trying to sort through his reeling thoughts.

"Deku," Kacchan had drawn to his feet. "Knock it off, will you? Look, I'm only gonna say this once: this doesn't concern you. It's for the pros to worry about. We'll report it tomorrow and—"

"Doesn't concern me?" Izuku turned to him, incredulous. "It's a threat against my _mom_ —" His eyes suddenly narrowed, accusing, "that you were trying to hide from me!"

"Of course I was, you idiot! Because I knew you'd lose your effing shit like this!"

"I'm not 'losing my shit,'" Izuku said, resuming his distressed pacing, "I'm just trying to figure out what the hell to do!"

"You're not going to do anything," Kacchan cut in, his voice taking on a hint of his dangerous tone.

Izuku's eyes snapped to him.

"Because, like I told you before, shitty Deku, these villains are not your concern," Kacchan went on, his gaze heated. "We're going to leave it to the fucking pros, and they're going to fucking deal with it since it's their fucking job. Got it?" he demanded, sticking a harsh finger in Izuku's chest.

"No," Izuku said, his gaze dropping as he continued frantically thinking things through. "No, don't say anything to anyone. Not yet. Not till I have a chance to really analyze what their angle is with all this. Not till I can make sure that won't end up provoking them. It's clearly directed at me. Maybe they have a message for me. Maybe they just want to talk, like Shigaraki did at the mall. Maybe if I just—"

"No, Deku," Kacchan stated in no uncertain terms. "You're not doing anything, so just shut the hell up and stop fussing about it, goddamn it!"

Izuku looked to him, bewilderment etched all across his face. What the heck was Kacchan's deal? Of course he had to do something; Kacchan was being ridiculous—he didn't understand.

"I've just got to try and figure out what they're playing at—"

"No! You're not doing any of that shit because of course this is directed at you, and of course that's _exactly_ what they want you to do, you fucking idiot! God, you are so freaking stupid. Don't you realize what an important fucking piece to this whole goddamn fucking mess of a game you are now? You're All Might's weak point! God, how can you not effing realize that?! If they figure that out, both you and All Might are royally fucked. And the power of One For All will be fucked, too."

Izuku was frozen again, staring at Kacchan intently, his brow pinched tight.

"Man, you're such a freaking—" Kacchan cut off, releasing a pent up breath. "It's just unbelievable—" he fumbled, drawing another fuming breath.

Izuku continued to stare.

"Look, just drop it for now, okay? Deku? Can you do that, shithead? Just get some effing sleep, and we'll talk more about it tomorrow." Kacchan pushed roughly past him and headed for the bathroom, seething all the way.

Izuku stared after him, his insides a tangled mess all clenched with fear.

* * *

Izuku called his mom that night to check on her. She seemed just fine—thrilled to hear from him, though having nothing particularly new to report. She didn't even mention the story of the puzzling break-ins in their building, either because she didn't want to worry Izuku, or because they really hadn't been on her mind. She didn't seem particularly concerned, and she didn't sound like she was putting up a false front of any sort.

It had been a reassuring relief to talk to her. But even so, Izuku struggled to calm down enough to sleep that night. His thoughts wouldn't stop. The details of the article circled over and over in his head, the implications becoming more frightening with each reiteration.

The league was trying to get his attention. That much was obvious. Why? What did they want? Why him? Their sights had been pretty focused on Kacchan, why the shift? How could Izuku attempt to determine their intentions while keeping his mom safe at the same time? They wouldn't seriously try anything, would they? Yes, of course they would. They hadn't held back at all in their attack on the camp. And that was against a bunch of kids—legally unable to defend themselves the majority of the time. Of course he couldn't put anything past them.

But his mom... He couldn't, no, he _wouldn't_ let them involve her in their lunacy in any way, shape or form. Absolutely not. He'd send a message back somehow. Or try to figure out what they wanted and attempt to negotiate. Or something. He really didn't know. He didn't know how to handle a threat that hit so close to home. _Too_ close to home. Literally and figuratively. He had no idea what the right move to make was, and it terrified him.

He knew Kacchan was right that they should involve the pros right away. At least let them know. But what if moving his mom or setting her up with a security detail only ended up implying that Izuku had no intention of acknowledging their threat? What if a perceived slight like that only caused them to retaliate more aggressively?

What should he do...?

Sleep wasn't coming and the anxiety was killing him. Izuku pulled out his phone, hoping he could distract himself with some unrelated reading. But of course he only found himself researching any and all information he could find on the League online.

"Deku."

Izuku started at the unexpected voice. Kacchan had fallen asleep a long time ago. How had he awoken? "Hm?"

"Get off your phone. Go to sleep."

"Yeah. I will," Izuku told him, distracted. He went back to skimming his current browser page.

"The light's keeping me up, asshole."

"Oh. Sorry." Izuku adjusted the brightness all the way down.

A long moment of quiet and then an annoyed huff. "Just turn it off. I can't sleep with that shit."

Izuku pulled his blanket up and over his head, creating a small tent to block any light from his phone.

Another long moment of silence before Izuku heard an exasperated sigh across the room. Covers rustled and footsteps suddenly approached. The blanket was immediately ripped away from him, and Kacchan snatched his phone before he could blink.

"Kacchan—!" Izuku exclaimed in a loud, indignant whisper. What the heck? Why did he always think he could just do whatever he wanted with Izuku or his things?

"Look, you idiot," Kacchan said, turning for the desk. Izuku's charging cord didn't quite reach, so he settled for pulling the chair over and setting the phone on it. "You're not doing yourself any favors by losing sleep when nothing's even happened. Dealing with shit like this is always going to part of the job. You've just got to figure out a way to keep your shit together." He turned back for his bed. "Get some fucking sleep and stop worrying for now."

Kacchan had climbed back under his covers, and a silence fell between them again. Izuku knew Kacchan was right, but that was all easier said than done.

He tried his hardest to push all the anxiety aside and clear his troubled mind. It was difficult and it took a good while, but sleep finally managed to claim him.

He floated for a long time. He didn't exactly realize he was asleep, lost in a state of detached feeling as he was. The peaceful nothingness stretched on forever, uninterrupted, until fleeting images gradually began flickering into view, slowly taking shape. Slowly forming a scene. He saw his mom's face, distressed and frightened. Alone and searching. Searching for her son who wasn't there. Who hadn't gotten there in time. Those glistening eyes the most familiar shade, wide with fear, reflecting the blue flames surrounding her. The blue flames engulfing her. Oh god, they were all around, there was no stopping them, no getting there in time, no way to save her—!

The terrifying scene immediately vanished as Izuku jolted awake. Confused and disoriented, he couldn't make sense of where he was or what was happening.

It was dark. He was on a hard surface—the floor? He'd been struggling—why had he been struggling? Something, or someone, was pinning him, holding him down. And he only just seemed to notice the hand clamped tightly, almost painfully, over his mouth.

A delayed panic immediately coursed through him as he regained his senses. His struggling started up anew, his sealed-off voice straining to be heard.

"Goddammit, Deku, shut up!" Kacchan's loud whisper was close. "I'm not trying to hurt you, you goddamn idiot, but I will if you don't just wake the fuck up!"

Kacchan's announced presence was an immediate relief, and Deku's struggling slowed.

Kacchan noticed. "Deku?" He sounded a little relieved. Yet very much on edge. And there was something else behind his voice Izuku couldn't quite pinpoint. A trace of fear? That couldn't be it. He wasn't certain Kacchan was even capable of feeling anything close to fear.

"What the fuck?" Kacchan spat. "The hell kind of nightmare was that?" he demanded, tentatively releasing Deku's mouth and sliding off him to the floor. He woke his phone for light.

Izuku lay there, breathing heavily and trying to rid all traces of the dream from his mind. God, what a horrible dream.

"You probably woke the whole goddamn building up with your shouting. You wouldn't shut the hell up," Kacchan accused, kneeling next to him.

Izuku's breathing was still a little all over the place. "Sorry," he finally managed to offer, a little embarrassed now that he was getting a grasp on the situation. "It was...It was just a bad dream," he exhaled.

The light from Kacchan's phone was dim, but Izuku could fairly clearly make out Kacchan watching him. Warily. Almost cautiously.

Izuku's gaze furrowed a touch. Kacchan was looking at him strangely. "...What is it?"

Kacchan just sat there, watching him a moment longer. He seemed to be trying hard to hide his thoughts.

"I didn't...hurt you, did I?" Izuku asked, hesitantly, a little frustrated he couldn't decipher Kacchan's gaze.

Kacchan ignored the question. Instead, he took an uncertain breath and asked one of his own. "...Have you been keeping shit to yourself again, asshole? Does One For All have a ranged attack you've been hiding?"

Izuku blinked at him from the floor. "Huh? ...No. Why?"

Kacchan continued to look at him peculiarly for another brief moment before rising to his feet and reaching for his lamp.

The light blinded Izuku. He blinked, squinting, until the room came into view.

It was...a mess. Definitely messier than when they'd gone to bed. Messy in a...fairly unsettling way. The books and study materials on their desks had all been knocked askew—several items littering the floor. The curtains looked like they'd been haphazardly flung open. An All Might poster was ripped in half and dangling from the wall.

"What...what happened?" Izuku asked as he pushed himself to his seat, brow completely furrowed.

"You tell me."

"Huh? ...You think _I_ did this?"

Kacchan was watching him with that funny look again.

A thought dawned on Izuku. "Wait...Did you—did you _see_ me do this?"

Kacchan blinked and stayed quiet, turning back to his desk. It was pretty apparent whatever he'd seen had shaken him a little. And it was also clear he wasn't going to discuss anymore of it until he'd had a chance to think it through himself.

Kacchan flipped off the lamp and Izuku almost threw out an incredulous scoff. He seriously wasn't going to talk about it with him?

"Kacchan. What happened? What did I do?"

"It was dark. I don't know."

Izuku huffed in disbelief and Kacchan continued. "You had a fucking nightmare and lost your shit. Just like I told you not to, dumbass."

"But, your question about a ranged attack... Why'd you ask that? How'd the room get so messed up?"

Kacchan was back in bed and facing the wall. "I'm only going to say this one more time, shitty Deku: Go. the eff. to sleep. I swear to God, if I wake up to anymore of your shit tonight, I can't be held responsible for the state they're going to find your shitty body in tomorrow."

"Kacchan..." Izuku almost pleaded, sitting up further and staring after him. How could he seriously expect Izuku to just drop everything and go to sleep after such a bizarre and perplexing night?

"Shh."

"...You're really not going to talk to me about this? You're really not going to tell me what happened?"

"I already told you. I have no fucking clue. It's your goddamn quirk. Why don't you figure it the hell out and make it yours already? I swear to God you're the most useless, incompetent asshole—" He trailed off, his words swallowed by a yawn.

Izuku tried to stifle another disappointed huff, and turned for his bed.

What an all around weird and crappy night. So much to think about. So much to puzzle through. So much to worry over.

Izuku only prayed he'd eventually manage at least a few hours of sleep before class in the morning.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Izuku found it difficult to concentrate in class the next day. The poor sleep definitely had a little to do with it, but it was more so due to all the anxieties bombarding his thoughts. The villains' threat against his mom—against him. His fearful inability to decide how to respond to it. The troubling reaction he'd had to his nightmare the previous night—what on earth had that been about? Even Kacchan had been perplexed by it.

Who could he turn to with all this? He still hadn't decided if he could risk the potential repercussions of mentioning the threat against his mom to any of his teachers. He wanted to go to All Might...but he had a feeling it would really frighten him. He didn't want his mentor to worry on his behalf any more than he already currently did. He knew All Might would make a huge deal out of such an indirect threat, and he feared it might only end up angering the villains.

One thing was certain, however, Izuku thought, as class finally wrapped up at the end of the day. It was Friday, and he was going to spend the weekend at home with his mom.

He lingered behind as everyone tapered out of the classroom. Aizawa ended up being surprisingly amenable when it came to the kids' requests to spend the weekends with their families. He didn't really even ask any questions, just signed the permission slip and handed it to Izuku. Izuku thanked him and was about to turn and leave.

"How're things coming along between you and Bakugo?"

"Oh, uh," Izuku scratched the back of his neck, turning back towards Aizawa. "Things are—they're a little better, yeah."

"Good. Keep at it."

Izuku gave a hesitant nod and turned to leave, pocketing his permission slip.

Kacchan was waiting for him outside the classroom, leaning against the wall and scowling.

"What'd you talk to Aizawa about?" Kacchan asked, and Izuku could tell he was trying hard not to sound too angry or demanding. Trying, but not necessarily succeeding.

"Oh, uh, nothing, really. He asked how we were doing."

Izuku attempted to casually stroll past Kacchan, not wanting to engage him in any attempts at conversation at the moment.

Kacchan's eyes followed him, narrowing. "Bullshit."

Izuku ignored him, hoping Kacchan might actually just let it go for once.

Kacchan had caught up to him in a second, whipping him around and giving him a solid push towards the wall.

"Tell me the truth, asshole," Kacchan seethed, five fingertips digging into Izuku's chest, pressing him firmly back against the wall. "Did you ask to go home?"

Izuku released an impatient breath, fed up with Kacchan's incessant bossing. "Yeah. I did. I'm going home this afternoon," he admitted, undeterred.

"Like hell you are," Kacchan spat, fingers digging into Izuku a little more harshly. "You're not going anywhere."

Izuku swatted his arm away, trying not to get angry. "Look, Kacchan. I've just gotta see my mom. I've gotta make sure she's okay. I'll probably plan to come back tomorrow, and hopefully by then I'll have some idea of how to deal with this." Izuku slipped past him and continued, "Look, I get that you're...concerned—"

Kacchan's scowl deepened at that, a muscle twitching near his eye.

"—or something? And, thanks for that, I guess. But...I'll—I'll deal with this. Don't worry about me." Izuku adjusted his backpack and turned away, heading down the hall.

He could hear Kacchan fuming behind him.

"Ugh, you freaking idiot. Why don't you just tell Aizawa about it? Or All Might?"

Izuku turned back towards him. "I probably will tomorrow. Like I said, I'm worried it might only provoke the villains if my mom suddenly gets special attention. And if I tell them now, there's no way they'll let me go home."

"Yeah, exactly, shithead. For as dull as you are, I'm surprised you figured that out."

Izuku turned back away.

Kacchan glared after him. "Screw this, I'm telling All Might." He said, turning in the opposite direction.

That caught Izuku's attention. He turned back around. "Kacchan—no. Don't."

Kacchan glanced at him over his shoulder but didn't stop.

"I just need to see her," Izuku explained, a little desperate. "That nightmare..."

Kacchan slowed, turning to study him a moment.

"Look, I'll be back tomorrow, and I'll sit down with All Might and figure out what to do."

"Just go sit down with him now."

"Kacchan," Izuku said, willing his patience to stay somewhat in-check. "You're always telling me to mind my own business. I don't mean this the wrong way, but, please...just take your own advice on this. I'm gonna go now. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

He could feel Kacchan's eyes on him as he turned to make his way down the hall once more.

"Hey, shithead," Kacchan called, his voice oddly resigned, though a definite hint of anger still lingered. "Wait. Don't take the train alone."

Izuku turned again.

"Since you're the most impossible, annoying, shit-for-brains idiot ever, I guess I have no effing choice but to go with you. Wait there, you goddamn moron."

And with that, Kacchan disappeared back inside the classroom, and Izuku stood blinking after him.

* * *

 **Some plot is finally happening! As usual, I didn't get quite as far as I was hoping with this chapter. But this seemed like a decent stopping point, and if I didn't get this posted today, there's no way I'd have time later this week. Too much stuff going on.**

 **There was finally quite a bit of Protective Bakugo in this, and there's obviously more up ahead, I hope you guys are onboard with that.**

 **I thought it would be kind of interesting and fun to include a different take on Izuku's first experience with Black Whip appearing in the middle of the night. Hence, that whole scene with the nightmare. I'm not entirely sure if Black Whip will play a more significant role later in the story yet (it might), but I wanted to include that scene, regardless.**

 **Thanks for the encouraging feedback I've received so far! As always, it helps so much with motivation, so I really appreciate it.**

 **And to the guest that left those two lovely reviews the last couple chapters- I'm sorry I'm unable to respond directly to them! But that last review was so incredibly kind and flattering, I wanted to let you know I was so grateful for it. Thank you so much for taking the time to share that!**


	8. The Disappearance

**6/8/19 Update: For those of you who may be wondering, this story has not been abandoned. I'm really sorry for the unannounced hiatus, but I ended up taking a mid-fic break of sorts to make the most of the spring months with my two little kids. Now that the weather's getting too hot to go out, however, I'm ready to get back to writing. I'm excited to share the second half of this fic, since there's quite a few fun and angsty scenes up ahead.**

 **Also, thanks to the reviewers (GarnetMonsoon and Krussy especially—thank you so much for those amazing reviews!) who left such nice and encouraging words. And thanks to the guest who recently dropped me the nicest note requesting an update on this. I'm so flattered some of you are still interested in this fic! I'll leave this note on the first and last chapters for now, in hopes some of you returning readers might see it.**

* * *

Bakugo followed Izuku to the dorms, glaring at the back of his stupid green head and fuming all the way.

They didn't say anything on the way there, and they still hadn't spoken when they entered the room. And when Deku silently began piling crap into an overnight bag, Bakugo seethed even further, pausing to scowl another long moment before reluctantly following suit.

He threw a couple drawers opened, grabbed some shit, pushed Deku out of the way as he flung the bathroom door open, and grabbed some more shit in there.

This whole thing was beyond stupid. They shouldn't be leaving the school—shitty Deku shouldn't be leaving the school. He should be in All Might or Aizawa's office, spilling the details of what they'd learned and letting the adults handle it. Because that was the responsible thing to do. That was the only thing that made any goddamn sense to do.

But, no. Shitty Deku wasn't being rational. He was being a goddamn moron, as usual. All because of his childish, idiotic need to see his goddamn mom right away. How old was the damn kid, twelve? How much longer was he going to allow himself to be such an easily manipulated, weak-ass crybaby? How much longer was his incessant need of having his hand held and his back patted by all the shitty parental figures in his life going to last?

Bakugo huffed, piling all his bathroom shit in his arms and dropping it in his bag.

Something at the back of his mind poked at him, chiding him. He tried to ignore it. Tried to pretend he wouldn't be doing the exact same thing if he was in Deku's shitty shoes—running off home to see his family safe and sound with his own eyes before the school prohibited him from it. Family was something you didn't fuck around with. Something no one had the right to fuck around with. Bakugo hated admitting to himself that he understood that.

Still though, that shit didn't change anything when it came to the potential danger behind the situation. The League had aimed a very subtle, yet very obvious threat in Deku's direction. Subtle enough it could have easily been missed by him. How would they have known it would make the news? How could they have planned on Deku happening to see it (which, by the way, Bakugo was still furious over inadvertently letting him)? Were they banking on his mom eventually mentioning something? Had they actually planned on finally entering his mom's apartment and threatening her directly? Or would they have held off for however long it took for Deku to take notice, thinking the mere thought that his mom could be in danger was the more effective (or sadistically fun?) way of fucking with Deku?

Bakugo wasn't certain. He wasn't certain of anything regarding the situation except how much he couldn't stand those twisted, fucked-in-the-head assholes. They were legit shit-brained fuckwits—thinking they had any right to take Bakugo against his will and proposition him with their half-assed, backwards, batshit 'cause.' Those fuckers! It still made Bakugo's blood turn fiery anytime he allowed himself to dwell on his kidnapping for longer than a fleeting moment. It was too detrimental allowing himself to think on it any longer that that—too difficult to contain the anger that immediately flared up. He would never get over that. The school administration could force him into the most extensive, thorough therapy program in the world, and it still wouldn't lessen his fury over that whole shitshow even the slimmest of fractions.

And now the League was attempting to pull more of their fucked-up shit on Deku. Bakugo would be damned if he was going to just sit there and let them.

Ugh, screw shitty Deku for seeing that article. And screw him for losing his shit to some wussy-ass nightmare over it! This could have all been glossed over and dealt with the right way if the stupid nerd could just handle his shit.

Speaking of which, though...what the hell had that been last night? Deku's nightmare had...not been normal. The stupid nerd had woken Bakugo when he fell off the bed, shouting—which had been jarring enough for Bakugo as it was. But as Bakugo got up to shut him up and attempt to wake him...something else had happened. Something strange. Deku had released an inadvertent attack of some sort. Bakugo hadn't been certain of what had been going on—initially he'd thought something, or someone, was in the room, attacking Deku. All he could hear was the clatter of shit getting knocked around and Deku yelling. And he knew he'd felt something whip past him, though he couldn't see what for how dark it was. But after his brief panic and blind fumble to wake his phone, Bakugo found they were alone. And after a moment's wary hesitation, he'd pounced on Deku, doing what he could to shut him up and get him to snap out of it.

What had happened? Had Deku unknowingly been darting around the room at an uncanny speed? But he was sure he'd heard the stupid nerd yelling from the floor the whole time. And Deku had seemed nothing less than just as confused as Bakugo was when he'd asked him if he'd been holding out on a ranged attack.

Bakugo mildly shook his head as he stewed further, deciding there was nothing more to be done at the moment other than to file it under 'Shit That Needs to be Brought Up to All Might ASAP.' And once again, Bakugo found his jaw tightening painfully at the thought of how much of Deku's bullshit had unwittingly become his business.

Ugghh.

He made for his desk, pulling some shit out of his backpack and taking only what he needed to study. He zipped the bag, shouldered it, and followed Deku out into the hall, scowling a hole into his stupid green head once more.

He absolutely didn't want to accompany the stupid nerd home, but he couldn't just ignore that it seemed to fall to him to keep an eye on his shitty ass for the time being. Since Deku was being an idiot by refusing to tell anyone about the villains before getting to see his mom. And since Bakugo had been roped into the whole shitty secret of One For All with Deku and All Might. He was one of only a handful of people who knew about Deku's situation. Who knew of his true relation and importance to All Might. He didn't like it, but he supposed it was his own snoopy-ass curiosity that landed him there. He should have just minded his own effing business. Then he and Deku never would have had their confrontation at Ground Beta. They never would have fought, wouldn't have ended up in trouble and been forced into their shitty rooming situation, and Bakugo wouldn't be stuck following Deku down the damn stairs at that very moment.

He huffed as he stepped out onto the main level.

Icy Hot emerged from the kitchen at the same time, rubbing an apple against his shirt.

Ah, great. The perfect topper to his shitty mood.

"Hey," Icy Hot said, glancing up and greeting Deku. He noticed his bag. "You heading home for the weekend?" His eyes shifted to meet Bakugo's glare before briefly dropping to his bag as well. "You're...both heading home for the weekend?" he asked, his brow raising almost unnoticeably.

"Uh, yeah," Deku said, raising his arm to scratch the back of his neck—the idiot's classic tell for whenever he was nervous or hiding something. "It's been a little while since I've seen my mom, and Kacchan figured it was probably time to pay his parents a visit, too."

Bakugo couldn't help rolling his eyes at how bad Deku sucked at any form of lying.

"Yeah?" Icy Hot asked, glancing slowly between them. "That's...nice." By 'nice' he clearly meant 'weird.' Stupid bastard. They could leave the school at the same effing time if they wanted to. They didn't need to explain themselves to him.

"Move it, Half'n'half," Bakugo said impatiently, brushing past both of them. "You forget some of us have parents who actually care to see us every now and then."

"Kacchan!" Deku exclaimed, eyes wide as they whipped toward Bakugo. "What the heck? What'd you go and say that for?" He turned back to Icy Hot. "Geez, sorry, Todoroki."

"Don't try and apologize for me, shitty Deku," Bakugo practically growled, half-turning to address them again. "Icy Hot's almost as nosy a son of a bitch as you are. Tell him to mind his own fucking business for once, why don't you?"

God. Leave it to Half'n'half to make some sort of big deal out of the two of them leaving together. Screw that douchebag. The way the bastard had been eyeing them lately, it was like he knew something was up. Like he knew they were keeping something from everyone else. And now that he'd spotted them heading home together, when he knew Bakugo would rather die than ever willingly go anywhere with the nerd...of course he was going to be on their case for it. He might even be a nosier bastard than shitty Deku, if that was possible. It was a tough call. Bakugo figured it was fair to just call it even since they both sucked an equal amount of ass.

Icy Hot didn't seem particularly bothered by Bakugo's remark. Of course he didn't. The stupid bastard made it a point to never react to any of Bakugo's threats or insults. It was as if he knew it was actually the lack of response that always irked Bakugo the most. Ugh, that kid was such an asshole. Just seeing his stupid, maimed face was enough to trigger Bakugo, no matter the setting or context.

Icy Hot eyed him passively for a brief moment before dismissively turning his attention to Deku.

Bakugo stepped away towards the tables to wait for shitty Deku to get rid of Icy Hot, and Icy Hot lowered his voice a fraction, but he could still hear him.

"Is...everything all right?" Half'n'Half was clearly attempting to fish for an explanation as to why they were leaving together.

"Yeah," Deku replied, trying to sound nonchalant or something. Trying and failing. Because Deku sucked at being anything but an open book. "Everything's great. Apart from that essay for Quirk Sciences I still have yet to start, I guess. That might kind of put a bit of a damper on the weekend, since I think Aizawa mentioned it had to be a minimum of five thousand words, which is...yeah, long. But I'll—I'll get it done."

Bakugo rolled his eyes again. Stupid stammering nerd. Couldn't act natural to save his life.

Icy Hot sounded hesitant. "If anything's...going on, Midoriya..." he said uncertainly, seeming to struggle a little with choosing his words, "you know you have other friends you can turn to, right?" He paused a moment, and Bakugo could swear Icy Hot's gaze flickered in his direction for a split second. "Other friends who genuinely care about you." The way Icy Hot emphasized 'genuinely' made Bakugo suddenly seethe. It really pissed him off for some reason.

"...Thanks, Todoroki." Deku sounded sincerely grateful. "Everything's good." It wasn't convincing, but whatever. Even the biggest idiot would be able to tell something was off with Deku at the moment.

Bakugo met Icy Hot's eyes once more as Deku turned away to join him again. There was something there behind his gaze that Bakugo didn't like. Like a faint warning or some shit. It was difficult to say, since Icy Hot was always intentionally a tricky son of a bitch to read. But it was as if there was the most subtle hint of a warning Icy Hot was aiming at Bakugo. A warning to not even attempt messing with his friend.

Fuck that freaky-eyed piece of shit. Deku was _his_ friend more than Icy Hot's. And that wasn't even saying much, considering he could hardly stand the shitty nerd's guts on a good day. But here he was, going home to spend the weekend at his boring-ass parents' house, when his studies and training would be a hell of a lot more productive if he just stayed at school—all because he was actually, kind of, maybe _slightly_ worried over the stupid nerd's ass. Ugh, he hated admitting it to himself. Hated the fact that he was actually a little worried about the stupid little shit.

Yeah, Deku pissed him off incessantly and bugged the hell out of him without even trying, and that sure as shit was never going to change. But what was equally sure as shit, was the fact that if any threats were going to be thrown in Deku's direction, they were going to be thrown by Bakugo. No one else had the effing right to fuck with him. Least of all those fuckwit shitstains with the League of Fuckers. If those assholes seriously thought they could attempt any of the same shit on Deku that they'd pulled on Bakugo...they had another thing coming. He'd kill those sons of bitches.

Deku gave Bakugo a long and searching look as he passed him, heading for the doors. As if he was trying to read everything at once—the reason behind Bakugo's particularly short temper with Icy Hot. The reason Bakugo was choosing to accompany him at all. The reason Bakugo's chest was heaving with equal parts fury and anxiety at the moment. Deku could keep trying to read him as much as he wanted, but Bakugo wasn't going to give him shit. He was going to play this whole thing off like he wasn't as concerned as he was. Like he didn't have the biggest pit in his goddamn stomach for some inexplicable reason at the thought of Deku walking out those doors.

* * *

The train ride felt long. The boys spent most of the way crammed together until a seat opened up and Bakugo pushed Deku towards it. He would have normally taken it himself, but he knew Deku would be too easily shoved around, since he was annoyingly polite and a pushover, and Bakugo didn't want to lose sight of him in such a crowded space.

When they arrived at their stop, they both clambered off and started heading home.

It was a little strange to Bakugo. Walking such familiar streets with such a familiar person, yet everything feeling so different. They had both come such a long-ass way since middle school. And Deku—freaking Deku was walking next to him, not the least bit intimidated by him, and Bakugo was actually letting him. And he actually wasn't too bugged by Deku's fairly relaxed demeanor around him for once. How had things changed so much between them, yet still stayed relatively the same at the same time? Their friendship (if it could barely be called that) was weird as hell. It was so jacked up. And Bakugo knew it was mostly his fault. He'd never been able or willing to put any effort into tolerating the stupid nerd. Well, scratch that, it was just as much Deku's fault for being such an annoying pain in the ass their whole lives. Bakugo couldn't help being an asshole, Deku couldn't help being an asshat. That was basically their relationship summed up right there.

Bakugo wasn't expecting to feel a sense of...nostalgia? Or regret, almost? Why was he feeling a weird and foreign sense of...something fairly close to sadness while walking with stupid Deku? Like they maybe could have been friends. Or should have. If Bakugo wasn't the way he was. If he hadn't been taught his anger and aggression was permissible behavior growing up. If he hadn't been so easily threatened and taunted and triggered over the years. He would never like the idiot, but it was kind of almost too bad he hadn't learned to somewhat tolerate shitty Deku sooner. It was rare, but sometimes Deku wasn't quite as bad as Bakugo made him out to be. _Some_ times.

Ugh, this whole shitty situation of dealing with villainous threats must have been messing with Bakugo almost as much as it was Deku. Why the hell else would he even be thinking any of this shit?

"It's funny how that park hasn't changed much at all since we were little," Deku suddenly commented, a little quiet, as he watched the passing scenery. "Except that elm tree's quite a bit bigger since the last time we climbed it together." He suddenly let out a faint laugh, seemingly feeling a little nostalgic, himself. "The last time you got stuck in it, more like."

"What?" Bakugo threw a mild glare in Deku's direction. "The hell are you talking about? I never got stuck in some damn tree."

"You got stuck in that tree at least three different times that I can remember."

"I was never _stuck_ , asshole."

"Yeah, you were. You'd climb too high every time. Always trying to get higher than the last time you were up there, even if it meant you couldn't get down. ...I think your mom had to call the fire department once."

"Bullshit. That never happened."

"Pretty sure it did," Deku insisted with another hint of a laugh.

"Your memory sucks ass."

"What? No, it doesn't. I have one of the most accurate and reliable memories out of...well, anyone I know, really."

"Bullshit. You're always making up shit that never happened, or twisting details to make shit sound way worse than it was."

"No—? That's not even—"

"Like all that shit you were crying about to Roundface in the library?"

"...What about it?"

"That was all the most over-exaggerated, whiny-ass nonsense I've ever heard."

"No...it wasn't?"

"Yeah, it was. If you weren't such a weak-ass crybaby growing up, you might have been able to actually take an effing joke and mess around with me. You were always such a goddamn sensitive little prick."

"Kacchan...you've got to be joking."

"What?" Kacchan demanded.

"You were a bully! You were never trying to mess or joke around with me, and you know it."

"Well, I would have if you could actually take a fucking joke every now and then."

"Doubtful."

Bakugo released a short breath, thoroughly annoyed.

"You just didn't like me," Deku attempted to explain. "And you still don't. And that's fine, I mean, I'm finally just starting to understand it all; even though when it comes down to it, it actually ended up being the simplest of reasons for our clashing all these years—you disliking me, I mean." He paused a moment, reflecting. "I guess I am a little too talkative, and I can be over-intrusive when I want to help someone, and I'm often annoyingly tenacious without realizing it—and I can definitely see people just plain disliking me for it. But, you know what? I'm starting to accept it. And I'm okay with it. I think I'm gonna actually be able to stop bugging you about it all, and finally just let it go."

Bakugo was about to throw out a sarcastic 'Good for you, asshole,' but for some reason he chose to stay quiet instead. And try as he might, he couldn't help suddenly feeling that inexplicable, stinging little prick of regret once more. It was annoying as hell.

"And besides, you want to talk about getting stuff wrong? How about all that crap you threw at me during training that one day—the day I hit my head. You were _so_ off the mark with all that, it's not even funny."

"...That's exactly what a subtle son of a bitch like yourself would say though, isn't it?"

Deku laughed. "You've got to be kidding."

"I know you're a crafty little shit, Deku."

Deku snorted. "'Crafty?'" He laughed again. "You know, you can actually be pretty funny, when you're not so outright mean."

"Shut up."

Another laugh. "It's true! You're really funny!"

"Yeah? You want to see how 'funny' my fist in your goddamn face is?"

Deku just laughed again, slowing his pace a fraction.

Bakugo didn't know why, but he was actually kind of pleased the stupid nerd had broken free from his crippling anxiety for a moment.

God, why was he acting so effing soft all of a sudden? Deku wasn't actually in mortal danger at the moment. It wasn't like the nerd was going to drop dead at any second. Why had Deku's brief, carefree laughter made him feel all weirdly nostalgic again? Like he might not ever get a chance to hear that stupid laugh again?

Ugh, those fucking villains and their goddamn psychological fuckery. It was almost like their threat was actually scaring Bakugo just as much, if not more than Deku, even. How in the hell did that make even a shred of sense? It wasn't _his_ mom that was potentially in danger. It was just his childhood nonfriend (whatever the hell that was). Why the hell was he feeling so goddamn...protective over the stupid little nerd?

"Well," Deku said, drawing to a stop. "I guess this is you." He vaguely gestured towards the street on their left. "Thanks...for keeping me company." It was clear Deku didn't really know what to say, since he probably really had no idea why Bakugo had accompanied him in the first place. "I guess I'll see you back at school?"

Bakugo adjusted his bag, scowling. "I'm taking the long way." The long route home would take him past Deku's apartment complex. He could drop the stupid nerd off, since the whole point of this shitty excursion was to make sure the idiot made it home safe.

Deku hesitated. "You don't...need to, you know. I'll—I'll be fine."

"It's not for you, asshole." Bakugo's scowl deepened. "Training's gonna be shit tomorrow, if I get any in at all, so I might as well get what extra exercise I can in the meantime."

"...Right." Deku didn't sound particularly convinced. But whatever.

This was all All Might's effing fault.

 _"...I want to ask you to attempt to shoulder some of this burden with Midoriya...You're the only one of his peers who knows—the only one capable of understanding what he's going through..._

 _And...Look after him...I can't always be there..."_

Ugghhh. Bakugo was convinced he'd never be able to get those shitty-ass words out of his head. Ever. Screw All Might for ever saying them in the first place. It was such bullshit.

They walked in silence, and Deku seemed to withdraw back into himself, his subdued gaze fixed on the sidewalk while his thoughts were clearly racing elsewhere.

It was weird seeing Deku so on-edge like that. He'd obviously been trying to keep his nerves in check for Bakugo's sake, but Bakugo could still tell. Deku was always easy to read when he was upset.

The stupid nerd better get his shit together after seeing his mom that evening. Because he was returning to school the next day no matter what, even if he was still feeling shitty and on-edge.

They arrived at the entrance to Deku's place, and Deku slowed, once again turning to say goodbye.

"You're still planning on going back to school tomorrow, right?" Bakugo asked, annoyed for feeling like he needed to make sure.

"Yeah, I'll probably head back tomorrow afternoon. Are you staying till Sunday?"

"No," Bakugo replied, as if the idea was ridiculous. Yeah, he liked his parents well enough for the most part. Okay, yeah, he could admit he loved them, he guessed. At least during those rare times his mom wasn't losing her goddamn shit at him. But one night with them would be plenty.

He hesitated, knowing there was still a few questions he wanted answered. He just didn't want to have to stoop to asking the stupid nerd. Ugh, fuck this annoying-ass situation. "Look, I know what you're gonna do tomorrow."

"Hm?"

"You're gonna go through your whole building, asking every shitty neighbor you can get ahold of for leads."

"...Yeah, I was—I was thinking about doing something like that..."

Bakugo hesitated again. Ugh, this was so freaking stupid. How the hell did he get roped into being the shitty little nerd's fucking keeper? He released another exasperated huff. "Look, just text me before you plan to leave your effing apartment. Alright, you stupid shit?"

"Huh?"

"I'll come over and fucking 'tag along,' or whatever."

Deku's brow pinched. The stupid nerd looked confused as hell. "...You don't ha—"

"Just shut up, alright? I know I don't effing have to. But since I'm the only one who seems to fucking realize the villains' threat actually compromises your safety more than your effing mom's...I'll just have to make sure you don't end up doing any stupid shit tomorrow or anything. The teachers are already gonna be pissed you didn't just tell them about all this shit from the start, you know," Bakugo tried to explain. And then fumed further at the fact that he felt he needed to explain himself to the nerd at all.

Deku's gaze lowered. "...Hopefully All Might will know what to do. I'll...I'll talk to him as soon as I can tomorrow."

"You better." Bakugo watched him for a long moment before reaching in his pocket. He drew out his phone, unlocking it. He huffed again. "Is your number still the same?"

Deku glanced up at him at that, furrowed brow lifting in surprise. Why should the stupid nerd find it so shocking that Bakugo never took the time to clear out his effing contact list? He'd had stupid Deku's number in his contacts ever since their parents got them their first shitty kids' phones in the second grade.

Deku was actually surprisingly smart for once and chose not to comment on his surprise. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, it's been the same since we were little." He paused a moment. "What about yours?"

Bakugo grunted an affirmative, locking his phone and pocketing it again. He looked up, adjusting his bag once more. "Stay inside tonight. And don't forget to text me tomorrow, asshole."

Deku nodded briefly, still unable to completely hide his bewilderment over the whole shitty conversation.

Bakugo released one more completely annoyed breath, turned, and left.

* * *

It was a relief to be home. Despite Izuku's lingering unease and anxiety, he was still able to legitimately laugh and smile at his mom's surprised delight upon seeing him. She'd gathered him up in the tightest squeeze, and hadn't seemed willing to let go till he was practically wheezing for a breath.

She'd laughed and pushed back his hair, and taken his bag for him, ushering him in while jabbering all the way—insisting on hearing the latest everything about school.

A ready grin tugged at Izuku the whole time he watched her bustle about, going off with all her motherly questions. He loved his mom. It was great seeing her.

"Come on, come sit with me a minute," she said, gesturing eagerly as she took a seat on the couch.

Izuku just continued to let that content grin tug at him a moment longer before releasing a relieved breath and joining her.

She seemed to have a million questions about school, and he did his best to fill her in on all of them. He couldn't quite match her level of enthusiasm—the back of his mind still plagued by worry, as it was, but he did his best.

She finally drew around to his and Kaccan's situation—which wasn't really Izuku's favorite subject of discussion. He'd initially considered not telling her about it at all, but the school had been obligated to provide her all the details of their initial fight and punishment once Izuku had been sentenced to his house arrest. And then he'd felt obligated to inform her of their subsequent rooming situation, since it was all part of the same consequences. She'd sounded a little worried and reluctant about it over the phone, but she'd understood the need for it. She'd been quite furious when she'd first heard of their fight. She'd said she hoped the school was keeping a close eye on the both of them and helping them sort through their issues with one another.

Izuku's mom had never really outright voiced her disdain or disapproval of Kacchan (though Izuku could tell it took all of her restraint at times), but Izuku knew she struggled with her feelings towards him. She'd known about the relentless bullying growing up. Despite Izuku's attempts to keep it to himself as much as possible. And, like it would be for any mother, Izuku knew it had always been a source of aggravation and distress for her.

She'd done her best to always encourage Deku not to let the bullying get to him. To understand it was the bully who had the problem, not him. He'd always appreciated her support and attempts at comfort, but sometimes there just wasn't a whole lot a mom could do when it came to bullying. Izuku understood that. And he'd always tried his best not to worry her.

"Uh, yeah," Izuku said, realizing his mom had just asked him a question. He scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, we're doing all right," he said, hoping to somewhat ease his mom's concern over him being forced to live with his childhood tormentor.

"Kacchan actually rode home with me," Izuku continued. "And I think he might want to get together tomorrow," he explained, figuring he might as well pass Bakugo's oddly watchful behavior off as improvement between them.

His mom's brows raised, surprised. "Oh, well, that's good to hear," she said, sounding a little encouraged. "Maybe he's growing up a little bit. Hopefully he's being a little nicer?"

Izuku released a small half-laugh. "Yeah, a little, maybe. I mean, Kacchan's still Kacchan. 'Nice' for him will always mean 'slightly less mean.'"

Inko clicked her tongue faintly. "I was always hoping Katsuki might outgrow his attitude issues by high school."

"Nah," Izuku replied, dismissively. "That's just who he is," he explained. "And he doesn't have a bad attitude about everything. He's actually really passionate and driven when it comes to school and the heroing career. He's in the top three of our class."

"Yeah, I remember seeing some of that 'passion' on display during the sports festival."

Izuku snorted again. "Right?" He thought for a moment. "He's actually mellowed a bit since then." He was surprised to find a little truth behind that statement upon reflecting on it. Overall, Kacchan had been a little quieter, a little less aggressive, and a little more withdrawn. Maybe not particularly with Izuku, but at least towards the rest of their class.

"I should hope so, seeing what a scary situation that behavior landed him in." She was undoubtedly referring to Kacchan's kidnapping. When the villains had mistakenly thought he'd make a better fit with them.

"Yeah, really..." That whole ordeal had indeed been scary. Harrowing, more like. Izuku hated thinking back on it.

"Well, hopefully he's at least realizing what a good friend he's been missing out on all these years," his mom said, patting his leg as she rose. "Now, what would you like to eat, sweetie..." She moved off to the kitchen, still chatting away as she started bustling about again.

That grin was back, tugging at Izuku again, a little more faintly this time, as he watched his mom eagerly set to taking care of him like she always did.

The grin quickly faded as all the thoughts surrounding the blue-flamed threat came tumbling back to the forefront of his mind. This time, for once, he was determined to take care of her.

* * *

The evening was really nice. Inko cooked one of Izuku's favorite meals, even insisted on doing a dessert afterwards, and urged Izuku to put his backpack away in his room for the time being and come and watch a movie with her once the meal was all cleaned up.

Izuku was happy to oblige. They talked a lot and laughed together, and Izuku couldn't help feeling grateful for the time with her.

He kept debating with himself whether or not he should bring up the recent break-ins with his mom, but she seemed so unbothered and carefree all evening, he couldn't bring himself to. Hopefully All Might would help him bring it up with her tomorrow.

He went to bed feeling an odd mix of relief and apprehension. Relief at getting to see his mom safe and happy with his own eyes. Relief at getting to spend some lighthearted time with her. He'd really needed it. But he knew the apprehension would linger the remainder of the night. And he knew it would linger the following day. And the day after that. He wasn't sure what could be done to ease his uncertain fear of the villains' threat. What would the school do about it? Assign 24/7 security to his mom? Move her to a new and discreet residence for the time being? For how long? Until the villains were eventually apprehended? Would his mom be okay with that? Would it be enough to keep her safe?

A series of texts suddenly came through, causing his phone to vibrate at intervals.

 **Kacchan:  
** Hey asshole, keep your phone nearby  
If you hear any sketchy shit during the night, call someone  
Call all might  
If he doesn't answer, call me  
And text me before you go out tomorrow, shithead

Izuku blinked, holding his phone up, completely bewildered again. Man, Kacchan was acting weird about this whole thing. Who the heck would have ever thought Kacchan was actually capable of worrying about him? He would hardly believe it, himself, if he didn't have the texts right in front of him to prove it. It was the strangest, most nonsensical thing ever. Kacchan had never cared about him before. Not really. He seemingly couldn't wait for the day they'd finally be out of school and Kacchan would finally be free of him. And yet here he was, walking him home from the train station, texting him to make sure his phone was close, offering to willingly come over the following day.

It was completely bizarro.

Izuku wasn't certain how to feel about it. He wasn't about to let himself feel encouraged that they'd possibly made a sudden leap of progress with their struggling 'friendship.' That couldn't be what was going on. He'd already just recently accepted the fact that he needed to let go of any hope for an eventual reconciliation between the two of them. Kacchan had made it very clear that he was not and would never be interested in being friends with him. And Izuku was learning to be okay with that.

So, why on earth was Kacchan suddenly acting remarkably similar to a friend?

If he wasn't going to allow himself to feel encouraged, should Izuku at least feel a little offended that Kacchan clearly didn't think he was capable of watching out for himself? If anything, he was more likely to feel a little touched by Kacchan's worry than offended by it, but overall he mostly just felt puzzled.

He supposed Kacchan really was just worried for his safety. Like Izuku had figured a while ago, there was a big difference between disliking someone, and not caring if they were to die. Or something disastrous were to happen to them.

He supposed it was very possible for Kacchan to dislike him and yet still care about his well-being at the same time. It was a little confusing, but wasn't that sort of what it was like for people with siblings? Supposedly, fighting and not being able to stand each other at times was a given between siblings. But at the end of the day, they'd still do anything to protect each other, wouldn't they? Maybe he was kind of like an annoying younger brother to Kacchan. And it had taken Izuku's safety potentially being threatened for Kacchan to somewhat realize that.

Izuku tried to shake his confusion as he raised his phone once more.

 **Izuku:**  
Sure. Thanks, Kacchan.

He turned his phone dark and set it aside, pulling his covers close. He kneaded his pillow and turned on his side, facing the open door of his bedroom. He'd left it open to better hear any potentially suspicious noises during the night.

He thought sleep would be a long way off yet, but it ended up finding him much more quickly than expected.

* * *

Izuku slept surprisingly well and untroubled. Nothing strange happened during the night. No suspicious noises, no uninvited intruders, thank goodness.

Izuku was up quite early so he decided he'd get a jump on breakfast for his mom. And she'd seemed delighted and grateful when she emerged from her bedroom, all smiles in her robe and slippers.

He missed living with her. Granted, he loved the dorms at school—perhaps a little more so before Kacchan moved in, but even so, he still loved being there. Their class had become especially tight-knit since living together, and they'd built such a sense of camaraderie that Izuku wouldn't trade for anything. He'd never had friends like that growing up. He'd never had classmates that actually liked him and enjoyed being around him. It had brought a sense of joy to his life he'd never before realized how much he'd been missing out on.

Even so though, there was something special about sharing a Saturday morning with your mom, eating breakfast in your pajamas.

Izuku cleaned up and showered, and sent a text to Kacchan as he was dressing, letting him know he was heading out soon.

Kacchan said he'd meet him outside his building in twenty minutes.

About twenty minutes later, Izuku pulled a jacket on and knocked on his mom's bedroom door to let her know he was leaving.

She looked about half-way done with getting ready as she drew her door open and pulled him into a quick hug, fussing with his hair a moment.

Deku offered a wave and was out the door to meet Kacchan.

Kacchan was waiting outside with his usual scowl. He didn't say or ask much. Apparently, Izuku being fine and in relatively good spirits was more than enough info.

It was clear Kacchan didn't really want to be there, though he surprisingly didn't outright say so. He hung back a good length behind, scrolling through his phone as Izuku began making his rounds through the building.

Izuku was a little surprised and discouraged by how few people actually answered their doors. And even more so by the lack of information anyone had to share. He hadn't managed to speak with anyone who had been directly affected by the break-ins. The residents who did answer only offered how troubling they found it all, and how they were taking extra precautions with their home security.

Izuku sighed as he walked Kacchan back out front an hour later. He supposed he shouldn't have expected to learn anything new or useful. And it wasn't like he could do much with the information anyway, if he had. Not without first speaking to Aizawa or All Might. Which he supposed should finally be his next order of business. Now that he'd calmed a significant fraction from the crippling fear he'd felt the night of reading the news article. Now that he'd had a chance to see his mom safe and sound.

He accompanied Kacchan to the complex's entrance and turned to continue down the sidewalk.

"Where are you going?"

"There's a convenience store around the corner," Izuku explained. "I'm just gonna go grab a drink or something real quick."

Kacchan offered his usual annoyed huff of resignation as he turned to follow Izuku down the sidewalk. He still seemed averse to talking, but he finally spoke up a minute later. "So, no weird shit happened last night?"

"No. ...I didn't even have trouble sleeping, surprisingly." Izuku replied.

Kacchan didn't respond. Just kept his gaze lowered as he continued to follow.

There was a small park on the corner, fairly near the convenience store. A couple of kids were laughing as they chased each other around the playground. Kacchan took a seat on one of the shaded benches.

"I'll wait here. Hurry it up, will you?"

Kacchan really wasn't going to leave until he was able to escort Izuku back home? That was so unnecessary. But, okay, whatever, Izuku shrugged to himself. "Do you want anything?" he asked.

"No."

"I'll get you a drink or something."

"Whatever."

Izuku turned to go, but stopped a moment. "Hey, Kacchan?"

Kacchan's eyes lifted from his phone a moment. "What?"

Izuku knew it would only make Kacchan mad, but he felt like he should say it anyway. "...Thanks for...helping me with all this."

Kacchan's neutral expression quickly started turning to a glare.

"Look, I don't mean to make you mad," Izuku quickly explained. "It's just...having someone else in on the secret of One For All...it just..." Izuku didn't exactly know how to word what he was trying to say. "...It's actually been a big relief." There was a lot more he wanted to add, but he knew it would only anger Kacchan further. He decided to keep it brief and to the point. "So...thanks."

"Whatever, Deku, just stop talking and go buy your shitty kool-aid, or whatever kids' shit you drink, already."

A small half-smile pulled at Izuku's mouth. "Heh. 'Kay. I'll be right back."

Kacchan went back to his phone and Izuku turned towards the store.

He was a good length away from the park when he suddenly noticed something sort of strange on the sidewalk. Little reddish-brown droplets spaced at even intervals. They looked...awfully similar to blood. A trail of dripping blood? And there, on the concrete half-wall lining the sidewalk—a smeared bloody handprint? What the...?

A strange and weighing sense of unease overcame Izuku as he slowly glanced down again. More droplets. The trail continued. His pulse quickened.

There was another smear on the brick of one of the buildings near the convenience store, and the droplets continued down an adjacent alleyway.

Izuku hesitantly turned to glance down it.

Boxes, crates and a good amount of garbage lined the fairly narrow passage. Though the blood droplets continued down the way, it was a dead end, it didn't lead anywhere. But there was a lone crate at the far end. And, eyes narrowing to a faint squint, Izuku could make out something strangely familiar sitting on top of it.

His breathing oddly shallow, Izuku cautiously advanced down the alley, approaching the far crate. Approaching the red and blue figurine atop it.

He got closer. It was an All Might action figure. Just as he'd suspected. Standing on top of the crate, facing away from him. More smears and droplets of blood surrounding it.

A heavy sense of foreboding bore down on Izuku as he apprehensively reached for the toy. Something at the back of his mind was nagging him to leave it alone and get the hell out of there, but his curiosity was too compelling.

He lifted the figure, turning it straight to look at it. He started, resisting the sudden urge to fling it away. In place of plastic eyes, two gaping gouge marks stared back at him. The rest of the face had been scratched at and scribbled on with red marker.

It was creepy and unsettling, to say the least.

He was about to finally listen to that nagging voice at the back of his mind telling him to leave already, when he suddenly felt a harsh prick against his neck.

He gasped, immediately aiming to draw a hand up, but everything suddenly seemed to stop working properly.

He managed to somewhat turn as his legs went lax, sort of just giving out on him.

He was met with his own face, standing behind him and grinning widely, an empty syringe in hand.

"Hi, Izuku!" It was his own voice, too.

His thickly welling sense of panic was immediately dulled as he slipped to his knees, his breathing strangely evening out, despite knowing it should be heaving; that he should be yelling for all he was worth at the moment. But voice, vision, everything just continued to slip further from his grasp.

"Oh my god, you were so right about luring him home. Could that have been any easier?! Aw, look at how cute he is, all passing out like that."

"Shut up and put his jacket on. Just walk out the way you came. If any CCTV saw him head down this way, they'll see him leave, too. Head towards his home. Kurogiri will pick you up around there."

The voices felt like they were far away. Or under water, almost.

God, he wanted to struggle, but everything felt so heavy. An immediate and pressing tiredness was pulling him quickly down.

"Oh my God, it's an All Might jacket. Ah, he's adorable."

"Shut up and hurry."

The voices were getting further away. His vision had faded, all tinged with blues, and now black was creeping in. No. He didn't want this. He didn't want this at all...Didn't want to...to...

...

* * *

Bakugo released a short breath, adjusting his position against the hard-ass park bench.

He was annoyed by the kids running around, annoyed by the dappled sunlight flickering in his eyes, annoyed that there was nothing worth looking at on his phone, and annoyed that he was currently waiting for shitty Deku, of all things.

He glanced up, a passing glimpse of green catching his attention. Deku was walking right past him on the sidewalk up ahead. Where was the idiot going?

Bakugo's brow pinched. "Hey, asshole!"

He noticed a couple nearby moms glance his way, annoyed. Ah, yeah, there were kids nearby. Whatever. He was sure they'd heard worse before.

"Deku!"

The asshole still didn't stop. What the hell? Glare fixed in place, Bakugo drew to his feet and caught up to the stupid nerd.

"Deku!" he demanded angrily, grabbing his shoulder and whipping him around. "What the hell?"

Deku seemed surprised and confused at first, until a flicker of recognition crossed his face. He broke into a wide smile. "Katsuki! Hi!"

Bakugo's brow furrowed completely. Katsuki? What the hell? "Why didn't you answer me, shithead? Where the hell are you going?"

"Oh, you know, just home." Why was he smiling at Bakugo like a freaking idiot like that?

"Where are the drinks?"

"Huh?"

"You said you were getting me a drink, asshole."

"Oh! Umm, yeah, I forgot my wallet. Oops!" What the hell was that stupid laugh for?

"The hell's wrong with you?" Bakugo asked, his face twisting in perturbed annoyance.

"Oh, nothing. I'm gonna go home now, 'kay? It was nice seeing you," Deku said, waving and flashing that too-wide grin again.

Bakugo's eyes narrowed as he watched Deku turn to leave. Why in the hell was the nerd fucking with him all of a sudden? Did he think he was being funny or some shit? What a freaking idiot.

"Asshole!" Bakugo called for him to stop.

"Hm?" Deku turned a moment once more.

"What time are you heading back to school today?"

"Oh, uhh, later."

"Later?" Bakugo asked, demanding more info. God, why had the stupid kid randomly decided to be as annoying as possible?

"Yeah, maybe around, like, dinnertime or something? 'Kay, I'll see you, bye!"

Bakugo's glare managed to deepen even further as he watched Deku turn and walk away at that. What the hell was that idiot's problem? Bakugo had wasted his entire Saturday morning with the stupid nerd, attempting to actually help him, and the shithead had just gone and blown him off for no reason.

 _Whatever, Deku. Asshole._ He better at least plan to go back to school that evening like he said, or Bakugo would be sure to give him hell.

He turned, thoroughly annoyed at the shitty day and most of all at shitty Deku, and headed back home.

* * *

Bakugo decided to stick around a little longer that day to have dinner with his parents again. They went out to eat at his choice of restaurant, and it was actually nice. His mom had surprisingly managed not to nag and bug the hell out him for the last twenty-four plus hours he'd been home. It was probably a new goddamn record or something.

When they arrived back home after dinner, Bakugo started putting his overnight bag together, actually a little anxious to get back to his routine at school. It had sucked missing out on training that morning.

"Katsuki!" his mom called.

Ugh. "What?"

"Katsuki!"

Bakugo took a breath. God, couldn't she just come knock on his effing door if she had something to say to him?

A few moments later, there was a knock at his door. Oh. There. That wasn't so effing hard, was it?

He stepped over to open it.

His mom lowered her phone a moment. "It's Inko Midoriya. She wants to know what time you boys were planning to head back to school."

Bakugo released a short, annoyed breath. "I dunno? Tell her to ask Deku. We never made plans to go back together." Bakugo went back to his desk, gathering up his school materials.

"Izuku told her he was going back to school this afternoon, but she said he's been out with you all day and hasn't been back to pack yet."

Bakugo immediately paused at that. He slowly straightened and turned back towards his mom. He wasn't sure why exactly his stomach had immediately decided to start clenching so tight.

"What?"

"She said he's been out all day with you," his mom repeated a little impatiently. "He's not here, is he? Did he tell you what time he was planning on going back to school?"

It wasn't just his stomach clenching now. Every other one of his damn internal organs had also decided to freeze up as if they somehow knew something was very wrong.

"I only spent the morning with Deku," Bakugo explained, his voice slowing, despite his attempts to keep any hint of fear from it. Their moms had no reason to suspect anything was awry. And he didn't want to scare either of them, even though he was already starting to freak out internally, himself, despite his efforts not to. "I think he said he was heading home hours ago."

His mom paused a moment and nodded. "Okay...I'll let her know," she said, lifting the phone again as she backed out and closed the door behind her.

Bakugo already had his phone out. He found Deku's contact info in an instant.

 _Come on, pick up, you asshole._ Deku's phone didn't ring. It went straight to voicemail. Shit.

"Deku. Your mom said you never came home after we went out this morning. Where the hell did you go? Call me as soon as you get this, asshole."

He called again. No ring. Straight to voicemail.

Shit. Shit. So his phone was off. Or...broken, or some shit.

No. No, this wasn't happening. The stupid nerd got distracted on his way home, and ended up...what? Running some errands? Running into someone he knew?

Right, he had to be with someone else. With one of the stupid extras.

How the hell could he get ahold of them?

He brought his phone up again, slamming a finger onto the e-mail icon.

Four Eyes had sent out a list. A contact list. Shortly after he'd become class president or whatever the hell he was. Where was it? He kept scrolling. Where was it—

Ah, there. He released a relieved breath, opening the shitty list and quickly scrolling through it.

He wasn't sure why the hell Icy Hot was the first person he chose to call. He just knew Deku liked the bastard for some unfathomable reason. They were pretty good friends or some shit.

It rang twice.

 _"Hello?"_

"Icy Hot."

 _"Who's this?"_

"Is Deku with you?"

 _"Huh? Who is this?"_

"It's Bakugo, you goddamn moron! Is Deku with you? You know, your stupid, shitty friend, Midoriya?"

 _"How did you get my number?"_

"Four Eyes sent out a class list, you stupid, fucking moron. Just answer my goddamn question! Have you seen Deku at all today? Is he with you?"

 _"...No. Why?"_

Bakugo immediately hung up. That useless fucktard.

He was scrolling for Four Eyes' number next, when his phone went off with an incoming call. His eyes snapped to it, anxious. Goddammit, it wasn't Deku, it was effing Icy Hot again. He suddenly regretted calling that bastard in the first place. Now he was going to be all curious and worried, which would undoubtedly make the rest of their effing class all curious and worried.

He hit the ignore button.

He went back to the e-mail list and his phone went off again as a text came through.

 **Unknown:**  
What was that about?

Bakugo huffed, dismissing it. He tapped on Four Eyes' phone number.

It rang three times.

 _"Hello?"_

"Four Eyes. It's Bakugo. From school. Has Deku come back there yet?"

 _"Bakugo?"_ The idiot sounded just as bewildered and useless as Half'n'half. _"Sorry, I'm actually not at school at the moment. I went home for the weekend for—"_

Bakugo hung up.

Another text came through.

 **Unknown:**  
I can't get ahold of Midoriya

Bakugo dismissed it again, his annoyance threshold already surpassed.

Another call came in from Half'n'half. Bakugo practically growled as he hit ignore again. That annoying shithead.

Another text came next. Unbelievable.

 **Unknown:  
** Will you please answer your phone?

 **Bakugo:  
** Stop calling me. Just find out if Deku's at school or if anyone happened to see him today

 **Unknown:  
** What's going on? Is Midoriya okay?

 **Bakugo:  
** That's what I'm trying to figure out, shithead.

 **Unknown:  
** What are you talking about? What's going on?

Ugh. The asshole was definitely worried now. This was Bakugo's own fault for involving that bastard in the first place.

Yet another incoming call from Icy Hot.

More than thoroughly annoyed, Bakugo answered it this time.

"I told you to stop calling me, asshole!"

 _"Bakugo. Don't hang up. Just tell me what's going on. Why were you asking about Midoriya? Where is he? Is something wrong?"_

Bakugo hesitated, already hating himself for deciding to talk to the bastard. But he'd gone and gotten him involved, like an idiot, so he knew it was inevitable now.

"Look, I don't know. Why the hell else would I be asking? He told me he was going home hours ago, but his mom just called saying she hasn't seen him all day."

 _"Okay, calm down—"_

Fuck that asshole. He hadn't even been raising his voice. Had he?

 _"—Listen. Do you have any reason to believe Midoriya might be in trouble?"_

Bakugo hesitated. Now was not the time to explain all this shit. And how much could he actually share, and with who, anyway? No one else knew about Deku's connection to All Might; no one else knew about the importance of his quirk—of One For All. He needed to talk to All Might, not shitty Icy Fuck.

 _"Bakugo—"_

Icy Hot's voice cut into his thoughts, somehow managing to sound both calm and troubled at the same time.

 _"—I'm going to assume your hesitation means you do think Midoriya could possibly be in trouble. I won't ask for details right now. I'm going to talk to everyone in the class and see if anyone's had contact with him. If no one's heard from him, I'll let Aizawa and All Might know."_

Something about Icy Hot's composed demeanor and direct approach to the situation was a little reassuring to Bakugo, though he hated admitting that Half'n'Half was actually being helpful.

 _"You should probably search your neighborhood—see if you can think of any regular spots Midoriya might be hanging out at. Keep trying his phone. I will, too. I'll be in touch. All right?"_

Bakugo hesitated again, his thoughts reeling too much to get a solid grasp on the conversation or the situation as a whole.

 _"Bakugo?"_

"Right, I heard you, asshole. Fine, let me know if you hear anything."

He hung up, standing there a long moment after the call ended, staring.

He grabbed his jacket and left his house, hardly hearing his mom briefly calling after him.

He didn't know where the hell Deku might go to hang out, so he decided to look everywhere.

Deku wasn't at any of the three convenience stores nearby. He wasn't at any of the popular noodle joints or restaurants. He wasn't at the arcade. He wasn't in the electronics store. The library was closed. He wasn't at the train station. He wasn't at the adjacent underground shopping mall.

Any flicker of green that crossed Bakugo's vision immediately drew his attention, his gaze snapping expectantly to it each time. But somehow he knew any familiar green hues he encountered weren't going to belong to that shitty, unkempt hair he was looking so hard for.

Somehow he just knew he wasn't going to find Deku that night. The sick and twisted unease, deep in his stomach was telling him Deku was lost. That heavy pit that had been bothering him since yesterday had somehow known some shit like this was going to happen. He'd been plagued by an inexplicable dread, and he'd tried to convince himself he was imagining it—that the villain's threat wasn't as serious as the warning in his gut was insisting. He should have listened. He should have done more to stop Deku from leaving school.

Bakugo hadn't stopped to let it all sink in. He couldn't stop for fear that it _might_ all sink in. Deku was missing. Fucking Deku was fucking missing.

He stalked along the sidewalk in a daze, almost. His chest was so tight it was a wonder he could still breathe at all.

Is this what it felt like to be afraid? Really and truly afraid? Is this what effing crippling anxiety felt like?

It was some of the worst shit he'd ever felt in his life. Right up there with all that effing shit he'd put All Might through.

He couldn't deal with this shit. He had no idea how to deal with this shit.

It was almost 11:00 fucking p.m. now. He still hadn't heard from Deku. He was going to destroy that piece of shit when he found him. He was going to beat that shitty asshole-fucktard to within an inch of his life for daring to make Bakugo effing _worry_ like this. No one should have any right to make Bakugo feel anything fucking _close_ to this. God, he _hated_ that kid. He hated him so _fucking_ bad!

And if he didn't just answer his _effing_ phone for _once_...

His vision blurring from how much he was seething, he found Deku's number again. Again, no ring. Straight to voicemail.

"Deku! Where the _fuck_ are you?! Answer your goddamn phone, you useless, stupid, fucking moron! God, what the hell is wrong with you?! ...Why didn't you listen to me?! I'm gonna beat the living _shit_ out of you if you don't call me back right the fuck now! Goddammit, I hate you!"

He ended the call, breath heaving so hard it hurt.

He hadn't noticed the wide-eyed stares he drew from the goddamn stupid passers-by on the sidewalk. He didn't give a fuck.

Deku was missing. The stupid son of a bitch had gone and gotten himself fucking lost. The thought wouldn't stop tumbling over and over in his head.

It was the most goddamn, infuriating bullshit ever.

He didn't know what to do. All he knew was he was this close to full-on losing his shit.

He brought his phone back up again. He'd been ignoring it ever since he left the house earlier. About a million people had been trying to get ahold of him, but since none of them were Deku, he hadn't given a shit.

He couldn't ignore them any longer though. It was time to finally face what a goddamn nightmare of a situation this really was. Time to face their parents. The police. Their teaches. Their classmates. Time to face what a shitshow this was all setting itself up to be.

A new text suddenly came through from his mom.

 **Mom:  
** Katsuki, answer your damn phone right now! Where are you?! You have five minutes to call me back before I call the fucking police

 _Katsuki..._

Bakugo suddenly remembered something from earlier. How in the hell had he not realized...

He felt his blood drain, certain all color had just vanished from his face.

Deku had called him Katsuki. Deku would never call him Katsuki. That hadn't been Deku. That couldn't have been Deku.

Oh, God.

It was one of the villains, wasn't it? He'd heard one of them was capable of making 'copies' of people.

What in the hell were the villains playing at?! What the hell was the point of a 'copied' Deku walking past him on the sidewalk and vanishing? Had they just been aiming to fuck with Bakugo? Why?!

Where the fuck was the real Deku? If the villains had him, what the hell did they want with him? Surely they'd be contacting All Might right away, wouldn't they, if this was meant to be some sort of taunt or ransom negotiation?

 _Goddammit, Deku. Where are you?! You better be all right, you stupid little shit, because I am sure as hell going to_ kill _you when I get my hands on you. I tried to warn you, you stupid, freaking idiot._

But even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't true. He didn't actually want to hurt Deku in any way. He wanted—no, he needed Deku to be all right, because that little shitstain was always all right and he was always _there_ , right behind him, and who the hell else was going to give Bakugo a legitimate run for his money on their way to the top? Deku was supposed to be following him all the way to the top. Not lost to some fucking worthless, lowlife villains. God, if they hurt him. If they so much as _touch_ him...

Bakugo's vision was so blurry he could hardly see straight. He rubbed at his stupid, shitty eyes and stumbled through his uncertain fury, his uncertain fear all the way home.

He knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep that night. And he knew anyone who had ever come to know Deku wouldn't be getting any sleep that night, either...

* * *

 **Oh gosh, so, you can probably tell by the length of this chapter that I was pretty excited about finally reaching the angst, lol.**

 **I'd been dying for Bakugo to show some *legitimate concern* for Deku, and I figured the only realistic way I could execute it, was to take Deku out of the picture. Katsuki sucks with feelings, so of course it would take something catastrophic to wake him up a little. And he clearly still has a lot of shiz to lose in the upcoming chapters.**

 **I'm sure it wasn't a surprise to anyone that the obvious trap ended up being a trap, but I would still love to hear if you guys are in favor of the direction this has taken!**

 **And to my lovely Guest reviewer: Thank you again! Your reviews are everything! I'm so grateful you've taken the time each chapter, and trust me, there's no such thing as too long of one, lol. Also, thanks so much for being my unofficial editor. It's been really nice having that kind of help!**

 **Edit: For those who were concerned about Bakugo not acknowledging the whole 'Katsuki' thing soon enough, I altered that segment a touch to have him notice, but still not make anything of it yet. Keep in mind, I don't think anyone would immediately jump to the conclusion that an intruder's taken over your friend's body, just because they're acting goofy and called you by a different name. His realizing, and the subsequent freakout still occurs when it originally did, later in the chapter.**

 **One more edit:**  
 **This is a brief character analysis regarding Bakugo's behavior in this chapter that I shared with a reader recently. If anyone's interested.**

 **"Okay, so this is just my own headcanon and personal interpretation of the characters, and I know not everyone will agree, but to me, Deku is extremely dear to Bakugo. He's been a constant in his life for as far back as their memories reach. Yes, not always exactly a pleasant constant, but I truly believe Bakugo has never actually hated Deku (I touch on this quite a bit more in chapter 9).**

 **The boys are like brothers. Rivalry, endless competition, and sometimes absolute aversion to one another are all going to be a given at times (okay, most of the time with them, lol). But lurking underneath the rocky exterior of their relationship lies deep devotion and an appreciation for the familiarity and constant-ness of the other. Just someone who's always been there, and who will always be there, that they know so well and have such a history with... I'm rambling and not making much sense (it's late, sorry), but what I'm trying to say is there is definitely an attachment to each other between these boys.**

 **And Bakugo has been in such denial of it all. Complete denial. Like, doesn't even want to face the fact that he might have to consider he has feelings of any type of fondness for Deku, no matter how deeply they may be buried.**

 **Anyway, to have someone like that, the closest thing he's ever had to a brother (despite all the rivalry and mixed up feelings of jealousy) suddenly disappear? In my opinion, it would bring out all sorts of 'oh shit!' behavior from Bakugo.**

 **He's never been confronted with the possibility of Deku actually not being there. Or of something seriously bad actually happening to him. And now it's been thrust on him, and he has no clue how to sort through all the shit he's suddenly feeling (that has been buried under a crapton of denial), and it is just throwing him for all sorts of loops.**

 **So, does Bakugo's change seem sudden? I would actually argue that he hasn't changed at all. The care he has for Deku has always been there. He's just never been forced to drop the denial for once and realize it."**


	9. The Processing

Bakugo arrived home just after midnight.

He was somewhat quiet about closing the front door behind him, though more due to his strangely detached and bewildered state than any attempt at being subtle. He knew sneaking off to his room wouldn't be an option—his mom would undoubtedly be waiting to pounce on him, no matter how carefully he entered.

He found himself heading towards his room, regardless—his steps feeling aimless and almost hollow, in a weird way. As if his body was on autopilot or something. His thoughts and movements were so disconnected, it was kind of a wonder he'd found his way home at all.

He knew it was unavoidable, but he really didn't want to see his parents just yet. Or rather, he didn't want his parents to see him. To see how dazed and shitty he looked. He knew his eyes were likely a little too wide and a little too bloodshot—a little too filled with fear and dread that he wanted nothing more than to hide, but knew he wouldn't fully be able to.

He had barely made it three steps towards the stairs when his mom's face appeared around the doorframe of the parlor.

"Katsuki?" She immediately stepped out into the entry way. "Where the _hell_ have you been?!" she demanded. "Where the hell is your goddamn phone?" She didn't seem to even be attempting to hold back at all. Not that she ever really did. "And why the hell are we paying for it, if you can't be bothered to take the damn thing out of your pocket when your parents have called you no less than twenty-two fucking times! Goddammit, you can't put us through this shit again, Katsuki—are you trying to kill us?!" She paused a brief moment, her fury not abating in the least. "Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

Bakugo stopped on the first stair, slowly turning to face his mom. He wasn't meaning to convey anything as his eyes shifted to meet hers, but she must have immediately caught a lot behind them. Her intensity seemed to lessen a measure.

"...Come in here," she said after a long moment, studying him intently as she gestured towards the parlor. "Tell us what's going on."

Bakugo wordlessly joined his parents in the front room, silently taking a seat and keeping his eyes on the floor. He didn't have anything to say. He didn't have an effing clue of what to say or where to start, and he wanted nothing more than to escape to the solitude of his room. Escape and at least attempt to begin processing everything.

Deku was... He'd been...

Nope, he couldn't allow himself to fully realize it all right there in front of his parents. Couldn't let himself think any further on the fact that Deku wasn't home and wasn't at school and wouldn't be returning to either that night. That Deku was...at that very moment...God knows where, in the hands of...

His piece-of-shit lungs kept forgetting their main function or some shit, because his chest kept tightening at their refusal to breathe on their own. It was annoying as hell. He vaguely wondered if his pulse was as audible to his parents as it was to him, and if that was why they were looking at him like that—all closely and shit. He wished they would look the hell away.

"Katsuki," his mom was clearly trying to be more careful with her tone, although it seemed to take real effort to push her anger to the background for the moment. "Do you know where Izuku is? Have you been with him or in touch with him at all tonight?"

Bakugo figured she likely hadn't needed to ask, if she'd read as much into his harrowed demeanor as her tentative tone suggested. It was rare for Bakugo to be unable to hide troubled feelings. It was rare for him to even _have_ troubled feelings. So it wasn't too surprising his parents continued to stare at him as if he'd sprouted a second head.

"Katsuki...?" his dad prodded, concerned. "Can you please answer your mom? Inko Midoriya's been frantic with worry, and none of your classmates have seen him today. When and where were you last with him? Where was he headed—"

Bakugo still didn't know how to respond, but he was at least about to raise his reluctant gaze to meet his father's when Mitsuki's phone suddenly went off. She hesitated a moment before drawing her attention from her son and answering it.

"Yes?" A brief pause as she listened. "Yes, he's finally home," she responded, eyes falling back on Bakugo, watching him. "Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem." She turned and stepped away, her voice lowering a fraction. "He's all right, just a little on the quiet side at the moment...which is, well, a little unnerving, if you know the kid at all." Another pause. "No, I'm sure he'd be willing to cooperate—Izuku's a longtime friend of his." She listened again. "Alright. Mmhm, you're welcome." She hung up, lowering her phone.

Bakugo's gaze sought the floor again, hating everything about that night more and more by the minute.

* * *

Detective Tsukauchi and a partner arrived at the Bakugo residence shortly after Mitsuki took their call.

Bakugo vaguely noted it was likely unusual for the police to get involved in a missing person's case so quickly, but Deku would hardly be a usual case. What with the the whole shitshow of the training camp fiasco, and Bakugo's (he inwardly fumed) own kidnapping still so recent, he was certain the detectives' agency would have been on the case as soon as All Might had dialed their number.

All Might was undoubtedly losing his shit.

The UA staff was undoubtedly losing their shit.

Inko Midoriya and all their classmates were undoubtedly losing their collective shit.

And...Bakugo hated admitting he was struggling to keep his own shit together, as well. His lungs still hadn't started working correctly. And his voice kept doing the most annoying, shitty cracking thing, no matter how hard he tried to force it to stay steady. It was infuriating as hell.

He'd told the detectives everything he knew—about Deku reading that threatening article the other night and not knowing how to respond to it. About accompanying Deku home and scouring his apartment building earlier that morning in search of leads. About...going out for a drink with him...and...leaving him to go on alone while he waited in the park (Bakugo hated how much his shitty voice decided to stumble at that part) ...And, of course, about the copied Deku, and the reasons why exactly Bakugo was certain it was a copy.

It had sucked ass attempting to get through it all, and Bakugo knew his words were coated heavily in denial, even as he was reciting them. But, finally, a little after one-thirty, Bakugo at long last found himself alone in his bedroom.

He closed his door behind him, pressing his back solidly against it. He sort of just...stood there for a long time, unwilling (and, if he was being completely honest—a little afraid) to face the full weight of the situation.

He'd been trying his hardest to keep a solid handle on his thoughts since arriving home. But now there was nothing else to distract him—no one else around to hide them from.

It was time to acknowledge it. Deku had been taken. Deku was gone.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

How? How had Bakugo let this happen? How had All Might let this happen?!

And why? Why did the League suddenly change targets and act again so quickly? Why had Deku been such an idiot by insisting on going home yesterday? ...Why hadn't Bakugo just gone with the little shit to the fucking convenience store earlier?! He'd been with him all morning— _why_ had he let Deku go off on his own for those brief ten minutes? Why, why, why?!

Bakugo bent, wrenching a shoe off and flinging it as hard as he could towards the closet. He hardly even noticed the unintended burst that followed it. He ripped his shirt up and over his head, cussing it out as his arms got tangled by his frantic movements. He practically stretched the shit out of it in finally freeing himself, and he tossed it hard aside, ignoring his pants and other shoe as he dropped onto the bed.

How in the hell was he supposed to get any sleep that night? How in the hell was he supposed to get any sleep ever again, with shitty Deku missing?

Stupid, fucking Deku. Stupid, shitty, fucking Deku.

How and why in the hell was that stupid kid able to make Bakugo feel like such shit? Why was he the only person in the world capable of forcing Bakugo to explore an entire range of emotions that he had absolutely no fucking interest in? That he had absolutely no fucking idea how to deal with? Nostalgia? Remorse? Guilt? _Envy?_ And, shit, the _worrying_ that little effer was causing...it was...it was—God, it was so maddening, it was almost unbearable.

Bakugo had never felt shit like this before in his life, and it sucked. It freaking sucked ass.

And his effing lungs were still being shitstains by not working properly. He still couldn't catch a satisfying breath.

Deku was missing. Deku wasn't going home that night. He wasn't going back to school tomorrow. He...he might not be there on Monday.

Shit, what if he wasn't there on Monday?

What if they didn't find him tomorrow?

What if...what if the League's goal wasn't to kidnap, but to elimina—?

Bakugo stopped himself before his shitty lungs had the chance to really run rampant at that thought. His breathing was already all over the place enough as it was. And there was no reason to get so fucking dark already.

All signs pointed to kidnapping. The luring him home. The complete vanishing act at the most unexpected time. The league's previous and similar action of kidnapping Bakugo.

Bakugo fumed, his jaw clenching so tight he heard his teeth grind. That didn't mean they _wouldn't_ kill Deku at some point...if he decided to be as obstinate as Bakugo had been. He seethed further as a fleeting image suddenly crossed his mind—Deku, restrained and defiant in Bakugo's place, surrounded by villainous assholes in some creepy-ass hideout, all alone and completely vulnerable.

God, it made him angry. It made him angrier than probably anything ever had. His palms were sparking, and he didn't give a shit what it was doing to his bed.

He just hoped Deku was being smart. Smart and compliant—at least for the time being. Until the heroes could sweep in and grab him and bring him the hell home. It would only be a matter of a few days, at most, until they found him, right? It hadn't taken them long to locate and carry out a rescue operation in Bakugo's case. Maybe they already had a solid lead on Deku's location. Maybe they wouldn't even need several days. Maybe they'd be bringing him home tomorrow.

They better. They had to.

One thing was for sure though—Bakugo wasn't just going to sit on his ass, burning holes his bed sheets in the meantime. He'd be researching as much as he could. He'd scour the entire city tomorrow. He'd scour the entire effing country, if it meant getting Deku out of those fuckers' hands.

There wouldn't be any time to lose on researching as much of the League as he could. He'd start right effing then, since he knew sleep wasn't happening.

He pulled his phone out, unlocking it.

Oh, yeah. Shit.

He'd forgotten how much crap he'd have to sort through, since he'd been ignoring the goddamn thing all night.

So many freaking missed calls from so many unknown numbers. So many texts, too. Goddamn.

He opened the shitty messaging app, scrolling down to start with the earliest received.

 **Unknown**

Hi Bakugo, it's Ochako Uraraka from school. Sorry to bug you, but we're all wondering about Deku and hoping you might have a sec to get back to one of us?

 **Unknown**

Katsuki, this is Inko Midoriya. Would you mind giving me a call back when you see this? Thank you  
I'm sorry to bother you again, but if you might know anything about Izuku's whereabouts this evening, would you please get back to me? I'd really appreciate it.

 **Unknown**

Bakugo, this is Detective Tsukauchi. Your mom told me you might not answer an unknown number. Would you mind giving me a call back at this number as soon as you're able?

 **Unknown**

Bakugo, any news on Midoriya?  
I talked to everyone here. No one's had any contact with Midoriya. I'm going to look for All Might now. I'll try calling you again soon  
Bakugo?  
Will you please answer your phone?  
Look, we're all worried right now, would you please let us know what's going on?

 **Unknown**

Young Bakugo, would you be able to give me a call tonight? This is your teacher, Mister Yagi (All Might)

 **Unknown**

Bakugo, it's Iida. We'd all really appreciate it if you'd respond to one of us soon

 **Elbows**

Hey man, the guys were saying something might have happened to you and Midoriya? Text me back asap, let us know you're ok

 **Sparky**

Screening my calls again huh? That hurts dude. Call me back  
Bakubrooo, why won't you answer mee  
Dude I know you suck with your phone but Kiri's gonna shit his pants or something if you don't answer or respond to one of us soon

 **Shitty Hair**

Hey man, I just tried calling you, will you call me back when you see this?  
Dude, will you answer? Or reply or something? You're really sucking with your phone tonight  
Todoroki was asking about Midoriya earlier and now he's saying no one knows where he is? Are you ok, man? What's going on? Please get back to me, I'm worried bro  
Dude wth just answer  
Do you not have your phone with you? Where are you? Are you okay? Please respond soon man, I'm seriously worried  
Dude it's been hours. No one can get ahold of you. I tried looking up one of your parents numbers but it sounds like the teachers are already on it. You gotta let me know you're ok at some point tonight, bro. Doesn't matter how late

...Nothing from Deku. Bakugo knew there wouldn't be, but still, it didn't help lessen the gnawing pit that had settled in his stomach after scrolling through the threads.

This was why phones were shit. You were just expected to be available all the goddamn time. And if you weren't, or just didn't feel like goddamn talking, everyone assumed you were either dead or the douche of the year.

Goddamn. Screw all those bastards for making him feel guilty on top of all the other endless shit he was already trying to sort through.

Fuck, he hadn't been aiming to make any of those assholes worry more. What the hell? It was their own goddamn fault for assuming shit. Just because he'd been too distracted to deal with his shitty phone, didn't mean he was intentionally screening it. Or that he was in trouble, or some shit. Screw them for assuming anything.

Why the hell should he be expected to spare even a goddamn second for any of those stupid extras, anyway, when shitty Deku was fucking missing?

Goddamn it!

Why?!

He dug his palms into his eyes, trying to rub out as much of the anger and dread and fear as he could.

He couldn't handle this. How could he possibly handle this?

He hadn't thought any situation could feel more crushing than All Might's forced retirement had. More suffocating. More infuriating. Yet here he was, feeling all of it again and then some.

It was the not knowing of this situation. The not knowing where exactly Deku was. What kind of shape he might be in. How alone he might be feeling. When he'd be back, safe and home again...if ever.

Shit. Whyyy? Why was he working himself up even more over this? Hadn't he always hated Deku? Hadn't he been waiting years for the day they'd finally part ways?

Ugh, screw the pang of self-reproach that immediately pricked him at that.

Screw this fucked up situation for forcing him to face all the shit between him and Deku. To really face it. To finally realize and admit to himself that most, if not all of it, was bullshit. He had never actually hated Deku. Disliked him? Yeah, most of the time. Definitely the majority of the time. But he knew it was mostly due to all the feelings of frustration and jealousy surrounding Deku, that Bakugo had never learned how to properly deal with.

Deku had never had anything. No quirk, no friends, no reason to even get up in the morning. And yet he'd always been happier than Bakugo (or at least more pleasant). He'd always been kinder than Bakugo. More resilient than Bakugo. More determined than Bakugo (especially considering how differently they'd started). More...something. Bakugo didn't know exactly how to label it. But Deku possessed something. Something extremely rare and tricky to fully put a finger on. To put it simply, it was the quality of a true hero. Deku had always had it. Bakugo had seen it time and time again throughout their childhood—when Deku would always immediately rush to his side anytime he thought Bakugo needed help—despite Bakugo being the far more capable kid. When Deku would defend their other classmates against Bakugo's bullying, even though he was afraid, himself. When Deku would always get back up, no matter how many times Bakugo shoved him down. No matter how many times Bakugo told him he was worthless. No matter how many times Bakugo tried to squash that heroic quality out of him.

And he'd seen it countless times since their childhood, even though he'd always tried to ignore it. To deny it. To pretend it wasn't there. But...All Might had seen it, too. He'd seen that golden quality of Deku's. That quality that couldn't be faked and couldn't be taken away...and couldn't be beaten. That was why Deku was chosen. ...And that was why Bakugo had always hated Deku. No...had always _envied_ Deku. Bakugo could finally mostly see it for what it was now—could finally admit to himself the true reason for all the animosity.

No matter how awesome and impressive Bakugo's quirk was, and no matter how well he learned to master it over the years, he'd still be found lacking. He still wouldn't possess that innate trait of fortitude and... _goodness_ , for lack of any other way to describe it, that Deku always displayed. He knew it wasn't something that could be taught or learned or picked up through training. It was something Deku had been born with. And it was something Bakugo would never have. It was that realization that had made his recent competing with Deku feel so desperate and threatening.

But recently...the envy had started gradually shifting to become something a little less ugly. A little less destructive. It had started resembling something...more along the lines of a challenge, or something like that? All Might had suggested something similar. In their discussion after their fight at Ground Beta. He'd said they'd taken the first steps towards becoming proper rivals. And Bakugo thought he might finally somewhat understand what All Might had meant by that. Proper rivals. Competing side by side instead of head to head. No longer leading them solely to envy one another. But more so to motivate and drive and inspire each other.

When had Deku become to Bakugo what Bakugo had always been to him? How long had Bakugo actually _admired_ the stupid nerd?

Bakugo wasn't certain. But screw it all for it taking such a shitload of a nightmarish situation for Bakugo to finally realize it—to finally admit it to himself.

He would never admit it to anyone else. Least of all Deku. But it would be because of his own pride and aversion to shittyass girl feelings, not because of Deku's absence.

Because they were going to get him back. They were going to get that shitty nerd back if Bakugo had to track down his stupid ass by himself.

He released a long and tight breath, hand dropping back to the phone at his side.

He sure as hell didn't feel like saying anything to anyone, but he couldn't really help the goddamn nonsensical twinge of guilt he'd felt upon reading Kirishima's text thread.

He tapped back on the messaging app.

 **Shitty Hair**

Hey. I'm fine. I just didn't have my phone out earlier, goddamn

A few seconds later, Bakugo's phone went off with an incoming call. He hesitated, letting it ring a couple times before deciding to hit ignore.

 **Shitty Hair**

It's late. Don't want to wake my parents. What the hell are you doing awake anyway?

It was a lie. He knew his parents wouldn't have heard him take the call; their bedroom was way down the hall, and their house was large. He just really didn't want to face all the questions surrounding Deku again. It had sucked enough with Detective Tsukauchi, and he didn't want Kirishima to read anything behind his voice. He would rather the teachers be the ones to confirm the shit rumors tomorrow.

 **Shitty Hair**

Shit Bakugo, I've been hoping to hear from you all night! I was worried as hell, dude. Are you ok? Where were you all night?  
What's all the talk of Midoriya about?

I'm fine. Tell everyone to stop calling and texting me, it's annoying as hell. I'll be back to school sometime tomorrow

Did Midoriya finally make it home with you? Everyone's been trying to get ahold of him all night too. We've all been wondering what the hell's going on. Where did you guys go? Did something happen?

Bakugo's exhale was cut short by his insides squeezing further in on each other. He lowered his phone to his side.

Facing their class tomorrow was going to be a shitshow of the worst imaginable kind. The extras were not going to be able to handle the news of Deku's disappearance. And Bakugo was going to have to be there—going to have to listen to their endless questions, their frantic suggestions, their poorly-disguised, questioning blame aimed in his direction. He had been with Deku, hadn't he? How had this happened? And he was going to have to attempt to play it off as if he wasn't just as affected by the utter bullshit of Deku's disappearance as the rest of them were. He was going to have to find a way to effing downplay how angry he was—how close to full-on losing his shit he came anytime the image of Deku strapped to a fucking chair crossed his mind.

God _dammit!_

His phone vibrated again. Eyes stinging and breaths staggering, Bakugo raised his shitty phone again.

 **Shitty Hair**

Bakugo?  
You ignoring me again bro?

Bakugo dropped his arm again, staring at the ceiling and blinking back the goddamn, pointless burning behind his goddamn, stupid eyes. He lay there unmoving for a long time.

The bed vibrated.

 **Shitty Hair**

Well, you must be tired. I won't keep you up any later. Thanks for getting back to me, man. Glad you're ok

Sleep was a long time in coming, just as Bakugo knew it would be. And when it finally came, it was anything but restful. He couldn't tell if he ever entered deep enough slumber to actually dream, but his scattered, disjointed thoughts were overshadowed by anxiety and dread, and littered with endless flickers of varying shades of green.

He woke early, without any desire to, and he didn't have the luxury of that forgetful disorientation that usually lingered between sleep and waking. No, he remembered everything immediately.

He forced himself to get up, trying his best to ignore the deep, sinking feeling that had taken up permanent residence in his stomach and the back of his mind. He felt like shit, and he didn't want to face the day. He didn't want to find out what would happen when the last remainder of his denial came crashing down.

He tried his best to avoid his parents, and he tried even harder to ignore his shitty phone, but even so, it wasn't long before Tsukauchi was summoning him and his ass was being hauled to the police station. He supposed he shouldn't make it sound like it was against his will. He went willingly, even though he sure as hell didn't want to be there. But they needed his help. And if answering the same shitty questions over and over for hours on end might bring them one step closer to getting Deku home, he'd suck it up and keep providing the same shitty answers.

The cops were pretty good at keeping solid poker faces. Bakugo couldn't really get an accurate read on Deku's situation out of them, and it was frustrating as hell. From what he attempted to gather, however, it didn't really sound like they had any major leads to hone in on. Which didn't help Bakugo's innards from sinking even further than he thought possible.

It wasn't until they let him go home in the late afternoon that he realized he was relieved he hadn't run into All Might at the police station. It had been bad enough getting a text from him the night before, but seeing him in person...it would just...ugh, goddammit, it was going to effing suck. It was going to hurt. He knew it would. And he was annoyed at himself for knowing that. This was all such bullshit. He knew talking to All Might would be unavoidable, but he'd prefer to hold off on that particular shitshow as long as he could.

He really had no desire to, but he couldn't help looking at his phone as he rode home from the station.

It was in the news now. Another UA student missing, suspected kidnapped. Izuku Midoriya—age sixteen, green hair, green eyes, five foot five, one-hundred twenty-five pounds. Last seen on 9/25 near central Musutafu. League of Villain involvement suspected. Seeking any tips or leads.

Bakugo blinked. He stared at Deku's stupid, lively face staring back at him. That stupid-ass smile that was never faked and never derisive and never anything but sincere.

Bakugo suddenly hated himself for ruining that stupid smile so many times in the past. And he _hated_ the assholes who were ruining it now.

Ugh. He suddenly felt like hurling his phone out the fucking window as hard as he could.

 _Where the hell are you, Deku?_

He needed some solid news on the situation. He was going to lose his freaking shit, otherwise. The staff at the detectives' office had been useless and evasive. No one would answer anything he'd asked directly. He could understand it was a high-profile, crucial investigation, but at least give him something. Even pretended optimism would be less shitty than nothing.

He didn't say much to his parents upon arriving home. They were doing that thing where they were trying to study him all inconspicuously again. Even his loud-ass mom was being apprehensive around him. It was clear they were afraid for Deku. And they obviously felt like shit for Inko, being able to relate to her situation more than they ever wanted to. It really must have sucked ass having your son just up and disappear on you. Maybe even more so than your friend, Bakugo wasn't sure.

He ignored his parents and locked himself in his room for the rest of the evening, trying in vain to finish up the rest of his shitty, pointless homework. He didn't want to go back to school yet. He didn't want to face everyone yet. And he didn't want to focus on his stupid-ass Quirk Sciences essay, either. It was the biggest load of bullshit ever.

Deku was missing. And Bakugo was sitting in his room doing his fucking homework.

Fuck that.

Bakugo should be out there looking for him.

If only his parents weren't keeping a close watch on him, and the police weren't keeping close tabs on him, and he wasn't due back at school that evening. They'd all be expecting him to pull some shit like vanishing for the night again. He knew there would be consequences if he ran off again.

Ugh, he hated the twinge of guilt he immediately felt at deciding to play by the rules. He was choosing to put school first. He was choosing to put his parents' and everyone else's expectations of him first.

When Deku didn't have any choice in his situation at all at the moment. Ugghh.

The evening ticked by, and each passing hour brought no news of Deku. Bakugo hated how often he kept checking his effing phone. Hated that he couldn't help looking at it every five goddamn minutes.

The sinking pit that used to be his stomach had been gradually consuming more and more of his insides all day. He hardly realized he was hungry. He had to make himself force some shit down around dinnertime. And he further had to urge himself to keep it down. His anxiety was making him queasy. God, it was the most annoying bullshit.

He wrapped up his shitty essay just after 9:00, and somehow managed to persuade himself to go back through it and delete all the curse words.

He packed up his crap and went downstairs, knowing his dad would offer to drive him to school, and unwilling to admit he was grateful.

His parents offered a weak-ass attempt at comforting him or some shit. Or at least of offering him some phony hopeful encouragement. Deku was strong, they said. He was smart. He'd hang in there and the heroes would find him before they knew it.

Bakugo wanted to tell them to shove it. He wanted to fire off a blast directly in their faces. But at the same time, he hated that he couldn't help being effing grateful for their lame-ass attempt at consolation. For their resolute decision to be optimistic, even if it was only for his sake.

He didn't say anything. Just blinked and inwardly threatened his shitty eyes at the gathering warmth behind them. God, he seemed to have no control over it lately.

He arrived back at school a little after 9:30.

He didn't want to get out of his dad's car. He felt like a fucking little kid. He just...really didn't want to face all the extras. All of Deku's friends. Who were undoubtedly waiting for him. They'd be expecting something from Bakugo—answers, information, some sort of encouraging sign of solidarity in needing to get him back.

He didn't want to give them shit. He already knew their despondency was only going to drag him down even further, and they'd have no idea, because Bakugo wasn't going to give them shit. He wasn't going to let them see anything.

He entered A-1's dorm building.

The common area was dimly lit by the kitchen and hall lights.

Bakugo could immediately feel the foreign atmosphere of the room—heavy, tense, somber.

The couches were lined with stony faces, some alit by a phone's glow. They all turned towards him.

"Bakugo—!" It was Kirishima, already on his feet and heading to meet him, his face all concern.

If that shithead even thought about hugging him...

Kirishima was smart and kept an arm's length between them. It was obvious he wanted to at least reach out to grip Bakugo's shoulder or some shit, but the look on Bakugo's face must have been warning enough.

"You okay, man?" Kirishima was studying him exactly the same shitty way his parents had. "We've been waiting all day for you to come back—you've been ignoring your phone again..."

Bakugo continued his trek towards his room, ignoring all those shitty, grim faces that had now drawn to their feet, as well.

"Hey—" Kirishima said, quickly turning to follow. "Is it true—the news? Is Midoriya...?"

Bakugo just kept walking.

Kirishima fell back a touch as Bakugo crossed the floor, heading for the stairs. "Bakugo! Stop, man. Please talk to us. Tell us what happened—!"

Bakugo continued forward.

"Bakugo." Icy Hot had now joined Kirishima. Bakugo would know that bastard's voice anywhere. "Look, we get that you're upset. We all are. ...But, this is _Midoriya_ we're talking about... Please, you've got to give us something. He's our friend, too."

Bakugo paused on the first step, his shoulders drawing in tight as he tried to keep them from quivering. He wanted to turn around and throw the most heated glare he could possibly muster in the bastard's direction. He wanted to throw more than just a glare. He hated how that effer considered Deku a good friend. Hated how open he was with his respect and admiration of Deku.

No...that wasn't quite right, was it? He _envied_ Todoroki for being good friends with Deku. Envied him for being able to be open and unashamed of his admiration of Deku.

...Goddamn it all to hell.

Bakugo released a hint of a resigned sigh. He wouldn't give the effers any more than that. "Deku's missing," he finally forced himself to offer, though he refused to turn and face them. "The villains are behind it, and I don't know any more than you assholes do, so I'm not sure why the hell you're set on hounding me, instead of figuring out a way to help get him the hell back. Goddamn," he muttered under his breath, forcing his feet to continue their climb.

He could feel their eyes on his back as he rounded the corner of the second floor, but he didn't care. He'd actually spoken to them, and that was more than they could ask for.

He entered his and Deku's room, unceremoniously closing the door behind him.

Goddamn his insides for flinching at the sight of Deku's neatly made bed from Friday. Deku had been inordinately tidy the last week, and Bakugo had learned it was for his sake. The stupid nerd had been trying to be more tolerable as a way of saying thank you or some shit.

Ugh. That stupid kid.

He tossed his overnight bag away, and approached his desk, trying and failing to ignore Deku's empty chair tucked neatly away next to it. His irritation mounting, he roughly pulled his own chair out, and a goddamn All Might figurine toppled over on the desk next to his. He grabbed for it angrily, flinging his drawer open to hide it away. He was about to toss the shitty action figure out of sight when his eyes fell on a small, white paper bag tucked away inside the drawer. The medicine Deku had requested from Recovery Girl when Bakugo had been ill.

Bakugo slammed the drawer shut.

Shit, he couldn't do this. He couldn't stay in Deku's room with Deku gone like this. It just...goddammit, it just felt too shitty.

But at the same time, Bakugo would be damned if he was going to move back to his own room before he and Deku had been properly cleared of their punishment. No effing way. Deku was coming back, and he was going to finish Aizawa's shitty-ass punishment with Bakugo if was the last thing they both did.

Why? Why did fucking Deku have to go and get fucking kidnapped?! Why had Bakugo let him leave the school? Why hadn't he just gone and told All Might? Why hadn't he just freaking stayed with the shitty nerd all day yesterday?!

A call suddenly came through on his phone, interrupting his goddamn shitty, racing thoughts.

Another unknown number...but Bakugo had a feeling he knew who it belonged to. He couldn't bring himself to answer.

Bakugo just stared at the phone until the call was picked up by his voicemail. And he continued staring, grasping it uncertainly, until a text came through a couple minutes later from the same number. Bakugo had suspected one would.

 **Unknown**

Young Bakugo, I was hoping for a chance to speak with you when you returned this evening, but it seems you may have already gone to bed. I don't want to sound presumptuous by saying this, but I'm going to anyway: This is not your fault. A hero cannot ever afford to be distracted by the misplaced desire to bear blame for circumstances out of their control. We will get Young Midoriya back. Don't you worry.

Bakugo read it through. And then he read it through again. At least as best he could—the stupid, shitty words had started blurring together.

All Might. That goddamn, self-righteous bastard.

Bakugo hated acknowledging how grateful he was to him in that moment.

He hunched over, bringing a hand up and pinching his shitty-ass eyes shut tight against it, completely in denial over the reason his shoulders were shaking so badly.

* * *

 **Okay, I am finally ready to pick up the second half of this fic! Please forgive the abrupt hiatus, but I really wanted to make the most of springtime with my little kids, so writing had to go on the backburner for a bit.**

 **I'm excited about the upcoming chapters though! Sorry (or not sorry?) there was literally nothing but angsty Bakugo in this one, but I felt it was necessary. There should be a little more than *just* angst up ahead, but if I'm being honest, the rest of this story is, like, 85-90% angst. I just can't seem to help it.**

 **Some small and fairly irrelevant snippets I kind of feel like noting:**

 **-Kirishima's almost overly-concerned attitude towards Bakugo in this chapter stems from the recent anxiety and fear he'd dealt with during Bakugo's kidnapping.**

 **-Bakugo referred to Deku as a friend for the first time, without thinking anything of it: "It really must have sucked ass having your son just up and disappear on you. Maybe even more so than your friend, Bakugo wasn't sure."**

 **-Bakugo referred to Todoroki by name for the first time (at least in his own thoughts). I was hoping to convey that not only was Bakugo acknowledging Todoroki for once, he was also being especially real and honest with himself: "No...that wasn't quite right, was it? He envied Todoroki for being good friends with Deku. Envied him for being able to be open and unashamed of his admiration of Deku."**

 **-Bakugo will never outright admit to himself when he's crying. He'll only admit to briefly dealing with the annoyance of "blurry vision," or "staggering breaths," or "shaking shoulders."**

 **...I think that's it for now. I might add more later.**

 **Thanks to everyone who came back to catch this latest update! And to any new readers, thanks for reading all the way to this point. This fic is starting to get a little lengthy.**


	10. The In-Between

Waking was difficult.

A lot more difficult than the typical bad combination of a late study night/early training morning.

Izuku wasn't sure why it was such a struggle. Was he ill? He couldn't remember. His thoughts were fuzzy and fleeting in their repeated attempts at taking shape. But something at the back of his muddled mind was telling him it wasn't normal sleep he was trying to climb his way out of.

He continued his ascent, forcing his jumbled thoughts to keep pushing at the overbearing darkness. He needed to wake up. Somehow he knew it was imperative that he wake up.

His own groan sounded in his ears, weak, but encouraging. The darkness was finally retreating.

"...think he's waking up again..."

His limbs felt abnormally heavy and hindered. He must have been ill. But he couldn't remember going to bed sick. He couldn't recall going to bed at all, really...

"...might actually be coherent this time."

Another faint moan. His eyelids felt so heavy. Why wouldn't they just open already?

"Finally! I've been waiting forever for him to wake up."

...Huh? Who...?

Izuku's eyes finally slit open, squinting at the assaulting light. He winced, blinking heavily at the sudden announced ache behind his eyes. Had he gone to sleep with such a bad headache? He couldn't recall, and he wasn't sure what might have caused it; he rarely got headaches.

His eyes were finally deciding to focus, though his vision was still annoyingly bleary from his stinging head. He reached up to rub them.

...But his arms didn't move.

What...? He tugged slightly, lifting his groggy head and blinking the last traces of sleep away. He hadn't realized he'd been sitting up. In a chair. That he was apparently...tied to? Thick leather straps encircled his wrists, locking them in place at the arms.

Fear raced through him, jolting him upright as much as the binding across his chest allowed. He frantically pulled at his arms and legs, struggling for some give, some movement—anything—but he was held fast.

What was this?! What was going on?!

He glanced up, eyes darting around his unfamiliar surroundings. He was in what looked like an old apartment. A couch and tv took up the space to his left, while a small island and a bank of cabinets made up the tight kitchen to his right.

There was a figure seated at the couch, gaze turned towards him. Izuku immediately recognized him as the patchwork-faced flame villain. Another was standing behind the bar—his glowing, smoke-framed eyes calmly fixed on his. The warp villain. And a third was turned away, calling down the hall in that unmistakable, beguiling high-school-girl voice.

"Tomura, he's awake~!"

"Welcome back, kid." The flame villain had drawn to his feet, switching off the tv.

Izuku recognized his voice. From the alleyway near his home. It was one of the last things he could recall hearing before darkness had inexplicably claimed him.

How could he have been so stupid—? How in the hell had he let them get the drop on him so easily? Why hadn't he been on high alert?! He knew they had a warp quirk on their side; he should have known something like this could have—and should have—been expected!

Dammit!

Kacchan was right. The villains' threat was more sinister than he'd realized. ...Kacchan—!

Izuku's pulse kicked up another notch as he scanned the room again, hastily searching for any clue his friend might have been brought along with him. There were no other thick, wooden chairs in the room. No sign of other restraints. No scorch marks on the walls or floor. Izuku released a breath, figuring it safe to assume Kacchan was still at home, safe and unharmed.

Izuku inwardly winced a measure as he regretfully wondered how long Kacchan had waited for him on that park bench. And that wince deepened to a near-visible flinch when he realized how pissed Kacchan was likely going to be at him. He'd warned Izuku not to go home. He'd known first-hand—more so than any of their classmates—the level of unpredictability and madness the villains were capable of. Izuku hadn't listened. He'd been too fixated on seeing his mom.

The two had approached him now, Flames standing a ways back, while the girl stepped directly in front of him, bending slightly to meet his eyes.

"You've never really done anything, have you?" she questioned in that disturbing, sing-song voice of hers. "Like drugs or anything, huh? Because you're a good boy, aren't you?"

There were several things Izuku really didn't like at the moment: how close the girl was leaning in to address him, for one thing; the fact that he couldn't back away, for another. And the way she was talking to him as if he was an old friend—as if they knew each other well. It was creepy and off-putting, to say the least.

He pressed against the back of the chair, faintly twisting at the restraints. She was still talking. "I don't really know what exactly was in that syringe they gave me, but how much of a noob do you have to be that it knocked you flat for a full day—?" She laughed.

...What? That had all happened a day ago? Was today Sunday? Had he been missing for a full day already?!

"You kept, like, sort of waking up last night and this morning, and I tried talking to you, but you were soo out of it, it was really cute and funny," she giggled. And then she seemed to remember something, halting her train of thought. "Oh! I'm Himiko Toga, by the way, do you remember? Tell me you remember when we first met, Izuku! It was so perfect! In that forest, in the dark, and you were all injured and barely clinging to consciousness, do you remember? It was such a bummer I had to bail so fast without getting a chance to chat, but we can finally make up for it now!"

"God, Toga." The Flames villain was still standing back, hands pressed in his pockets. "Who the hell put a quarter in you?"

"Huh?" She questioned, half turning.

"Shut up," Flames clarified.

She huffed in response, straightening.

Okay, well, that was probably enough of this nonsense, Izuku decided, glancing down at the straps across his wrists and readying to activate One For All. How much of the power would he need to break free? He didn't want to overdo it, since he'd need to be fast—as fast as possible. He couldn't afford to hurt himself—he'd need to be uninjured to make sure he could reach his top speed after breaking free. The warp villain was quick; he knew that. But he could be faster. If he utilized One For All at just the right amount to maximize the speed of both his freeing himself and his escape, he could do this. No problem.

"Don't even think about activating your quirk. Izuku Midoriya."

Izuku's gaze snapped up again. Shigaraki had joined them, pausing at the hallway's threshold. Watching him.

Izuku swallowed dryly, wishing he hadn't seized up all frozen at the sight of the League's leader. Shigaraki was dressed casual and hands-free, like he'd been when Izuku had encountered him at the mall. And honestly, Izuku couldn't decide which version of the villain was creepier.

He entered the room, slowly approaching Izuku. "Kurogiri can't be outrun, so don't try. He'd be on you before you could blink. And do you want to know what would happen after that? Izuku Midoriya?"

Izuku hated the way he said his full name like that. It made a chill prickle across his skin.

Shigaraki was stepping up to him now. "Do you want to know what will happen if you use your quirk? If you try to escape?"

"Ooh, let me tell him the punishments I came up with!" Toga bounced nearby.

"Toga, let him talk," Flames cut in, sounding routinely annoyed.

Shigaraki didn't seem bothered. His gaze never left Izuku as he responded to the eager high schooler, and Izuku really didn't like how he was looking at him. "Sure. Tell him."

"Ah!" Toga clapped excitedly. "I knew you liked my ideas! Okay, Izuku, here's what I came up with. I have a few different options, but they're all equally awesome." She leaned forward again, clasping her hands behind her back. Izuku really didn't like the false cuteness about her. It made his skin crawl.

"Punishment option number one—if you use your quirk and try to escape: we'll release a nomu on some random small town outside of Tokyo. One that's far enough away from any hero agencies and filled with innocent, unsuspecting villagers. And we'll just let it loose to have some fun," she giggled. "You've seen how nomus like to have fun, haven't you, Izuku?" She paused a moment, grinning at him, but Izuku didn't respond. He wasn't sure his voice would even work at the moment—he couldn't seem to catch a decent breath. And he was quickly starting to feel queasy.

Toga laughed again at Izuku's lack of response. "Option two," she continued. "I take on the form of that super cute chick from your class, Ochako Uraraka, and pay her parents a 'surprise visit.'" Toga raised her eyebrows suggestively at that, and Izuku's nausea doubled. She must have picked up on Izuku's fear because she snickered again.

"W-what are you talking about?" Izuku's voice finally found itself, though its recent lack of use was apparent. "What does Ochako have to do with this?"

"Hers was the only blood I managed to get that night we raided your summer camp," Toga pouted.

Huh? "You can—You're able to take on someone's appearance by collecting their blood?" Something dawned on Izuku. "That was you in the alleyway? Posing as me? The League has two copycat quirks?" He remembered hearing about the copied villains the teachers encountered at the training camp. He assumed it was the same quirk at work when he saw himself in the alleyway before passing out.

"You know," Flames cut in, the bored drawl still behind his voice, though a hint of accusation lined it as he eyed Toga. "Information like that is usually most valuable when left unshared."

"Whatever. I want Izuku to know all about my quirk. Just like I'm gonna learn everything about his." She was leaning towards him again, and Izuku couldn't help flinching slightly. "You're probably wondering when and how I got _your_ blood, aren't you, Izuku?" Her eyes glistened at him. She seemed to be liking this whole messed up situation way too much. She leaned further in, and Izuku pressed himself back as far as possible. "It's a secret." Goosebumps darted across his neck at her way-too-close whisper. He wished she would back the heck off.

"Quit perving on him, weirdo."

Toga straightened again and threw a half smirk, half dirty look towards the flame villain. "Tomura already promised I could play with him," she said, crossing her arms. "Which leads me to option three—"

"Oh my God, just stop talking already. Pretty sure he gets the picture." He turned towards Shigaraki. "Why the hell did you want us to stick around till the kid woke up? So Giggles here could let her inner crazy out all day? Either cut to the chase, or I'm heading out."

Toga finally stopped talking. Izuku's eyes shifted back to Shigaraki, who was still watching him. Who had never stopped watching him. There was an almost hungry expression partly visible behind that lanky, death-gray hair. As if Izuku possessed something Shigaraki had been searching a very long time for. As if Izuku was a prize Shigaraki couldn't fathom having won. It was extremely unnerving, and Izuku would have been squirming under his sight if he hadn't been strapped down so tightly. He wished he could make his voice work again, but he had no idea what to say. The faster his blood raced, the more his thoughts seemed to lose themselves to fear.

"Do you know why you're here, Izuku Midoriya?"

Izuku swallowed heavily and forced his tongue to work. "H-honestly, I'm not really sure what your angle is with this." He licked his lips, but they stayed dry. "I mean, you already went after a UA student—fairly recently. And it...didn't really go all that well for you guys. I would have expected you to...maybe lay low for a while?"

"Do you know why it 'didn't go all that well for us?'" Shigaraki rasped, his voice currently devoid of anything. It was making Izuku all the more wary.

Izuku unconsciously tugged a little at his wrists. "...Because you misjudged Kacchan?"

"Who, the pissant explosion boy?" He offered a hint of a scoff. "That smug little asshole was a waste of our time. Too deluded to reason with. He doesn't matter anymore. Why else didn't things 'go well' for us that night?" He took a step closer to Izuku, his eyes never leaving him.

Izuku was finding it more and more difficult to continue meeting that scathing gaze. He twisted faintly at his tied wrists again, hating feeling so trapped more and more by the second. He wanted to reach out for One For All so badly. He wanted its strength to join his bounding pulse more than anything. To course entirely through him. It would be such a comforting relief at the moment. All he had to do was reach out... Just call for it in his mind... Just bring a sliver of it forward to calm his screaming nerves. But he couldn't. He absolutely couldn't. He knew the villains' threats weren't empty. And he didn't need to press them to confirm that.

Shigaraki had taken another step forward. "Well..? Are you ignoring me?" There was a threatening note behind it.

"Wha—? N-no, I was just—I was thinking back to all the news reports from that night," Izuku quickly explained.

The creases framing Shigaraki's lips shifted to the beginnings of a smirk. "Interesting. ...Your own version of the events aren't enough to draw from?"

Huh?

"I know you were there, Izuku Midoriya. I _saw_ you. I saw those green sparks flickering across the night sky. And I knew it was you. What other little asshole could it have been?" Another step closer. The smirk had solidified.

Izuku's tongue was frozen again. His breath was lodged so tightly in his throat, he couldn't swallow around it. He'd figured the villains likely suspected he was one of the students that had gone to Kacchan's rescue, but to have them confront him about it to his face was...extremely uncomfortable, in all honesty.

Shigaraki continued at Izuku's desperate silence. "At first I was irate. To say the least. About seeing you there. You seemed to just show up everywhere. You were always just _showing up_ everywhere." He took yet another step closer, standing right in front of Izuku, fixed glare still penetrating. "...But then it started to make sense. The reason you were always there. Everywhere that All Might was." There was a certain vehemence behind the way he said his name.

Izuku did not at all like the turn this conversation was taking. "All Might doesn't have anything to do with this," he forced out, relieved his voice was somewhat cooperating. He knew it wouldn't help his case at all, but he couldn't help the defiant hint of defensiveness that had suddenly loosened his tongue again. "He's done—out of the fight. That last fight with your leader exhausted him. It used up the last of his strength—forced him to retire!" He knew he should really try to rein his building emotions in. Getting upset and obstinate while tied to a chair and surrounded by enemies was never the best idea. But he couldn't help it. "Isn't that what you wanted?! Isn't that what you've been hoping to achieve this whole time?"

Shigaraki just continued to stare down at him for long moment, his smirk forgotten. "I didn't want to force him to _retire_ , you little prick. I wanted to _destroy_ him. End him. Make him wish he'd never been born. And I was foolish to think the loss of his powers might have had that effect on him. I thought he'd be lost. Broken. Hiding in humiliation and despair as he realized his days as the symbol of peace were over. As he realized everything he was was gone. That he had nothing; he was nothing. I wanted to see him wallow. To suffer. And I wanted evidence of his anguish." He was hovering over Izuku now, that hungry look back in his red-tinged eyes. "So I had him followed. After everything went down. After that fight with Master left him a shell of his former self."

Izuku's heart was pounding so hard, it was nearly drowning out Shigaraki's words. He almost wished it would so he wouldn't have to hear what he had to say next. He didn't want to hear what Shigaraki was going to say next. It was no use though. The villain was continuing.

"And do you want to know what All Might did? The very next day? After losing his powers? After losing _everything?_ " He paused, staring knowingly down at Izuku. Izuku wanted to look away so badly. He hated that menacing look of triumph creeping in behind those crimson eyes.

Shigaraki went on. "You know what he did, don't you? Because once again, you were there, Izuku Midoriya." Shigaraki had reached into his back pocket, withdrawing a slip of paper. He righted it, holding it up for Izuku to get a good look.

It was a photograph. Of All Might, bandaged and battered, a sling cradling his arm. He was crouched in the sand, the ocean faintly glistening behind him. Crouched and embracing a mop of green hair against his chest.

Izuku stared, his bounding pulse briefly stuttering.

Someone had followed the two of them to Degobah Municiple Beach that day. Someone had photographed them. That private, personal, and very dear moment to Izuku had been intruded upon. And was now being exploited.

Izuku felt his jaw tighten, hardly able to believe it. A brief tug-of-war between anger and fear suddenly erupted inside him, his insides cinching tight. Fear won out quickly.

Shigaraki was watching him so closely, that mocking smile of his back and growing wider.

Izuku wanted to hide everything. He didn't want anything to show. Not the crippling dread that was pulsing through him, not the heat of indignation that was tinging his cheeks, and certainly not the terror that was clawing so frantically at his insides. He knew his eyes were betraying him though. He knew their wide glistening was spilling everything. He couldn't help it. He dropped Shigaraki's gaze, his breaths somehow shallow and heaving at the same time.

"All Might sought you out, didn't he? The day after he lost his powers. He called for you and met with you alone." Shigaraki's words were heavy and dripping with spite, and he paused a moment, letting everything sink in. "Why would he do that? Why would he seek out a single student of his and not only meet with him in private, but embrace him as he would a family member?" Another long pause, and Izuku was certain everyone in the room could hear his drumming heartbeat.

"You're not just one of All Might's students, are you?" Shigaraki finally put the question to Izuku, reaching out with cold, coarse fingers to roughly grip his chin. He lifted Izuku's face, careful to keep one finger at bay as he forced Izuku to meet his cruel gaze once more. "You're his sidekick...his protege. Aren't you?" Shigaraki's voice was soft and eager. He appeared to be drinking in the sight of Izuku once more, and Izuku winced, wishing harder than he'd ever wished for anything that he would just wake up from this nightmare already.

"You're his weakness." There was no hint of a question behind the statement. "You're the key to destroying him." Shigaraki seemed to revel in finally sharing that last sentence, and the fervor behind his gaze intensified, causing all the anxious knots comprising Izuku's insides to double up.

Izuku hated himself for allowing his fear to root him to the spot. To keep him silent and unmoving while his mind was screaming at him to refute Shigaraki's claims. Deny them, lie, say whatever he had to to change the villain's current course of thinking. But his stunned silence had overtaken him. And he knew his wide, gleaming eyes couldn't have been more incriminating.

But he still had to try. He had to make himself try.

Shigaraki was still watching him, his twisted grin more than satisfied.

"That's not even—I mean—Just because All Might took an interest in helping me with my similar power-based quirk, that doesn't—that doesn't mean he favors me above anyone—above any of his other students. He cares about all of us equally. I—I wouldn't even say I'm the one he's closest to..." Izuku was willing his voice to stay as steady as possible, but it still cracked and sputtered more often than not.

"...You're not a very good liar, Izuku Midoriya," Shigaraki said, finally releasing Izuku and straightening.

Izuku licked his lips dryly again, wishing he could rein in his wide-eyed terror that was more than getting the better of him.

Shigaraki continued. "A picture's worth a thousand words. And this one says everything." He lifted the picture again momentarily before pocketing it once more.

Izuku hated everything about this situation. It was bullshit. His panic hadn't lessened in the least, but he forced himself to speak again. "...What do you want from me?" And then after realizing there was a more relevant question, he added, "What do you want from All Might?" They weren't keeping Izuku alive for no reason.

Shigaraki regarded him quietly for a moment. Toga was standing back, watching in amusement. Flames had taken a seat at the couch again.

"Only to see him suffer," Shigaraki said, a special kind of craze glistening in his eyes. It made Izuku vaguely wonder who deserved the top spot of derangement out of him and Stain.

"Master succeeded in breaking his body, and now it's up to me to finish it. To break his spirit." That unnerving glint behind his gaze seeming to grow stronger. He went on. "We were careful not to make a show of things this time. Your disappearance was simple and quiet."

"Would have been quieter if Giggles hadn't screwed up." Flames had decided to speak up, still facing the blank TV.

Toga threw him a look. "Hey, all I was supposed to do was throw off any footage of Izuku from where we took him. I headed right back towards his house, just like you said to. How was I supposed to know the explosion brat would be there waiting for him?"

Izuku almost jumped at that. "Y-you saw Kacchan?"

"That kid's a real prick," Toga affirmed. She tapped a finger at her mouth thoughtfully a moment. "...And I don't think he likes you very much."

Yeah, that was very true, and Izuku might have offered a hinted laugh at the understated non-revelation under any other circumstance. He was suddenly anxious for more information. He had to be certain Kacchan hadn't been drawn into this mess any further.

"Did you talk to him?" Izuku pressed, trying to keep the desperation behind the question toned down as much as he could. He wanted to ask so much more. What did she say? How had Kacchan responded? Had he suspected anything? She hadn't hurt him at all, had she? How long had they—

Flames spoke up again before Toga could reply, interrupting his thoughts. "It doesn't really matter what she said—she's still not gonna admit she messed up," he stated, and Toga crossed her arms, eyeing him. "The point is," he went on, "that kid's not an idiot, and there's no doubt he didn't see through the encounter and eventually put it together. So your plan for a 'mysterious disappearance without any leads' was a bust, Tomura."

Toga didn't seem too bothered by his accusations. She merely shot him another dirty look.

"Of course we'd be their number one suspects, anyway," Shigaraki replied, still watching Izuku. Izuku really didn't like how that gaze never left him—not once this whole time. "It doesn't change the fact that they still have next to nothing to go off of." He paused a moment, adding weight to his words. "As of yesterday, your life ended, Izuku Midoriya..."

Izuku stiffened, wishing he could somehow turn his hearing off. He wished he could somehow stop any further words from leaving that twisted, hateful mouth. He didn't want to know what else Shigaraki had to say.

But the villain continued. "You disappeared without a trace." Another heavy pause, their locked eyes burning each other. "And do you know what we're going to say about it? What claims or demands we're going to make over it?" He stopped a moment again, clearly enjoying everything about this. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Izuku didn't move, didn't blink, his breathing still on hold.

Shigaraki went on. "We're not going to claim responsibility. We're not going to demand anything. We're not even going to provide any hint of evidence as to whether you're alive or not—"

Izuku tried to swallow again, tried to take a breath, but nothing was functioning.

"Do you know why?" Shigaraki questioned, the gleam in his eyes now bordering on gleeful. He gave Izuku a moment to respond, but he couldn't—he had nothing. He continued with the answer, adding further emphasis to his words. "Because it's the 'not knowing' that's going to destroy All Might." His eyes were certainly almost dancing now. "No leads, no evidence to your whereabouts or state of being—not knowing whether or not you're even alive. It's going to _destroy_ him." He actually released a rasping laugh at that, and Izuku hadn't thought his blood could chill any further. "Honestly, I wish I'd known about you and All Might sooner. I wish I'd seen it sooner. How foolish of him to bring such a weakness into his life. Close relationships and proteges are the biggest risk for heroes, and he's now realizing why."

Izuku felt physically ill. His insides were rolling. This couldn't really be happening. Was this really happening?

"You're probably wondering why you're still alive then, aren't you? Why didn't we just snuff out your pathetic life and leave no evidence?" His smirk seemed to widen further. "Because the only thing that could possibly be more painful to All Might than your disappearance or death—the only thing that could ruin him further—is if you turned. To our side." That very wrong smile had nearly straightened every wrinkle lining his mouth, it was so wide now.

Izuku's insides felt so heavy, it was almost a wonder the straps were still able to hold him upright.

"You're going to stay with us from here on out, Izuku Midoriya." He said it so matter-of-factly. There was no discussion to be had about it. "Against your will for now," Shigaraki further explained. "But once we find the right quirk—one capable of altering your deluded, 'heroic' way of thinking, you'll choose to remain with us." He paused one last time, letting the words fully resonate through Izuku's bewilderment. "And your invaluable addition to the League will undoubtedly succeed in finally bringing about the complete destruction of All Might."

Time and reality both seemed to be glitching as Izuku sat there, stunned and reeling. He couldn't speak or move, and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't drag his eyes away from Shigaraki's all-consuming gaze. It felt as though the villain's quirk had become effective through sight alone, and Izuku was suddenly collapsing in on himself—decaying, withering from the inside out.

He wished he would wake up already. He just wanted it to be possible to wake up from this.

* * *

Izuku spent the next several hours in similar discomfort—still securely strapped in place and unable to move, only, the addition of a thick strip of tape was now sealing off his voice and half his breathing as well. It wasn't that he'd even really tried to engage them in conversation again after Shigaraki's harrowing talk earlier. He'd been too shocked and despondent to adequately gather his thoughts, let alone voice any. But they decided not to give him the option for now anyway. Perhaps it made him less of a hassle for the time being, or something.

The villains had dispersed for a while—all but Kurogiri, who remained hovering around the kitchen counter, his eyes never leaving Izuku for more than a few moments. He seemed to regard the kitchen as more of a bar, and Izuku supposed it made sense; the cupboards appeared to be lined with liquor more than anything else, anytime he caught a glimpse of them opened.

Toga had promised she'd see him later, as she playfully fingered a lock of his hair (which added significantly to his queasiness), before heading out the door. Izuku caught sight of a narrow exterior walkway that met a metal staircase, leading both up and down. Toga went up, to what Izuku assumed was likely another apartment upstairs.

Voices and difficult-to-place sounds occasionally came up from beneath him, leading Izuku to guess the old apartment he was being held in was likely above a business establishment of some sort.

After gathering as much of his surroundings as he could, and not having much else to distract himself with, Izuku finally allowed the full weight of the situation to sink in. The full weight of Shigaraki's words.

He'd pressed his head back against the chair, closing his eyes in defiance at the moisture that kept gathering behind them. He refused to let any tears fully take shape, and he was frustrated that it still took him a considerable amount of effort to keep them at bay at times.

His insides were a strange tangle of dread and despair warring with optimism. Yeah, they might have him in a tough spot right now, but it wasn't like they could keep him tied to a chair for days on end. He'd have a chance. He'd get a solid opportunity to escape. And with the power of One For All, it would be relatively easy.

Izuku stifled a shiver as he reminded himself of the villains' threats, if he attempted escape. He knew they weren't merely toying with him. If he tried anything, whether his attempt was successful or not, innocent people would pay. Which Izuku could absolutely not allow to happen.

And that irrefutable realization led Izuku straight back to the endless dread and despair, the optimism quelled again.

On the plus side, however, the villains hadn't mentioned anything further regarding his mom. They likely knew as well as he that she had undoubtedly been moved somewhere safe for the time being. The authorities would have linked the flame villain's threat at the apartments to Izuku's disappearance. Which was a huge relief. But the mention of Ochako's parents hadn't been much less frightening. The villains couldn't have known that Izuku was particularly close to her. And there was no way they could know how close Ochako was with her parents—her desire to care for them was the sole reason she was pursuing the hero career in the first place. She was something special. He would never let anyone hurt her or her family.

Izuku swallowed around the lump that lodged in his throat upon thinking of her, wondering if he'd ever see her again.

No. This was stupid. He wasn't going to just sit there, blinking back tears and feeling sorry for himself. He'd put himself in this position. He'd been stupid, unprepared and unwilling to listen. He'd caused this. And he was going to fix it.

Why hadn't he just listened to Kacchan's advice and warnings? Kacchan... Izuku nearly winced again, knowing full well Kacchan was likely going to kill him for this. ...If he ever saw him again.

Izuku brushed off the pang of regret that stung him again at that thought, refusing to let the despair get the best of him. Of course he'd see Kacchan again. Of course he'd see everyone again. It hadn't taken them longer than a few days to locate and rescue Kacchan when he'd been taken. The heroes had been quick and capable. There was no reason to think they wouldn't be again.

...But then again, how many lives had been risked during Kacchan's rescue? How many casualties had resulted? Could Izuku ever be okay with a repeat of similar events on his behalf?

No, he realized. He couldn't be. He decided he'd prefer any rescue efforts to not occur.

...And he suddenly had a newfound sense of understanding for the guilt Kacchan had carried around for weeks after his rescue. That he still seemed to be carrying around, really. Everything sure sounded and felt a hell of a lot worse when you were on the rescuee's end of the deal.

Ugh, he just hoped All Might wasn't worrying too much. And his mom. God, he had really put everyone he cared about in a truly crappy situation. Without any leads they were probably frantic with worry already. Izuku's stomach roiled at the thought. He'd never felt such a consuming guilt before. It felt miserable.

And in the meantime he couldn't do anything. Couldn't even move. It was pointless trying the restraints' strength for the millionth time; he wasn't going anywhere. And even if he wasn't tied to the chair, his fear over the whole situation might have kept him rooted there, regardless.

He hated how frightened Shigaraki's plans had made him. How afraid the villain's gaze alone made him. There wasn't a hint of sanity behind it. And there was no reasoning with or predicting the insane.

He had to remind himself that fear was a normal and often unavoidable response for a hero. All Might had admitted to it without any shame. It wasn't realistic for Izuku to expect himself to keep it completely at bay. And it wasn't really fair to regard it as a weakness, either. In fact, fear could almost be seen as one of the main components that differentiated heroes from villains—a villain's desire to cause it for others, and a hero's willingness to face and conquer it time and again.

Right. Izuku wouldn't let his fear get the best of him. The villains were intent on keeping him alive for now, and it hadn't sounded like they were familiar with anyone who possessed a mind-altering quirk of any sort yet.

Izuku would stay compliant and hopeful for the time being. He could pull through this. He would pull through this. And the next time he saw Kacchan, he'd apologize profusely for not listening to him.

* * *

The flame villain (whom Izuku recently heard referred to as Dabi) returned a while later with food for Shigaraki and the warp villain. They ate at the bar, their conversation sparse, all the while ignoring Izuku. It wasn't until after they'd finished and Dabi left back out the door, with Shigaraki disappearing down the hall, that Kurogiri finally approached Izuku.

He reached down to pull the tape from of Izuku's mouth, and he was surprisingly careful about it. Izuku gratefully sucked in his first unobstructed breath in hours.

Kurogiri next bent to unbuckle the straps at Izuku's chest and arms, followed by the ones at his legs. Izuku had never known it could feel so good to straighten his limbs. He rubbed at his wrists, thankful to be free.

"I doubt I need to remind you not to attempt running away or using your quirk," the warp villain advised. It was a little strange hearing a voice emerge from the featureless face. Featureless apart from those eerie, glowing eyes. "Shigaraki may have been a bit vague in his threats, but I can assure you you won't like what will happen, should you choose to disregard him."

Izuku didn't need the reminder. He wouldn't put anything past Shigaraki.

"The food on the counter is for you," Kurogiri explained, gesturing to the place setting. Napkins and utensils framed the lone bowl of food. Izuku had been wondering who the warp villain had set it out for, and he was surprised it was for him. His stomach nearly growled at the sight alone.

"There's also a bathroom there on the right," Kurogiri added, pointing to the hallway.

"...Thanks," Izuku said, both confused and wary of the villain's courteous and almost kind behavior. Yet, he couldn't help being grateful to him at the same time, even if he didn't trust his intent. Being tied to a chair all day was horrible and had started to get quite painful in the last hour.

The bathroom was a little dingy, though not unclean. The mirror seemed to take on a slow spin as Izuku faced himself in it. He felt so out-of-sorts, and the foreignness of the setting and situation was making him a little dizzy.

It was almost nice having some time to himself, though there was nothing useful he could do with it. There was no window in the bathroom, no way to view or contact the outside world. And he didn't want to seem ungrateful of Kurogiri's generous offering of being trusted and allowed to use it alone, so he didn't linger.

He re-entered the kitchen area and made his way to the bar. His rumbling stomach reminded him how starving he was, yet he hesitated as he eyed the food.

Was he being disrespectful to everyone worrying about him by accepting the recent relatively polite behavior aimed his way? He almost felt their concern was only fair and valid if he was being mistreated. How could he let his mom and All Might go out of their minds with worry, when he was no longer restrained and had been offered a very decent meal? It made the guilt well up even more.

Kurogiri was watching him from the other side of the counter. He spoke after another moment. "I should inform you that should you refuse to eat, Toga has been given permission to feed you in the chair later."

Izuku glanced up at that, deciding that was certainly justification enough. He went at the food ravenously, and Kurogiri filled a large glass of water for him as he quickly worked his way through it.

"...Thanks," Izuku said again, wiping his mouth after gulping the water down. His empty body was very grateful, and Izuku felt a hint of life renew inside him, and his head seemed to clear a little.

Kurogiri cleared his dishes away and ran the sink. It made Izuku a little uncomfortable, being weirdly treated as a guest, almost. He wondered why the warp villain didn't seem all that bothered taking on the role of looking after Izuku. Though he had to admit Kurogiri's calm and proper demeanor was definitely the preferable option compared to the other three villains'.

Izuku was slow to stand from the bar. A hesitant _Now what?_ teetered on the tip of his tongue. He really, really did not want to spend the night strapped back down in the chair. He hoped the warp villain's strangely amiable behavior might spare him from the chair.

He wanted to go home more than anything, honestly. Or back to school. He would give anything to be back at school. The thought of spending the night in that foreign, rundown apartment, surrounded by villains who now served as his kidnappers...it just...it just sucked.

"Now that you hopefully feel replenished, it's time to discuss your lodgings," Kurogiri said, shutting the sink off and setting the dishes aside

Izuku drew to his feet, lifting his brows nervously.

"You'll find your sleeping arrangements behind you."

Izuku's brow furrowed slightly, questioning. He turned, wondering what Kurogiri meant. There was a hole behind him. A tear of sorts, running right down the middle of reality, all black and thrumming. It was one of the warp villain's gates. Izuku recognized it from the assault on their training camp. He would never forget the sight of Kacchan slipping away into that very same, very wrong darkness.

No sooner had Izuku caught a mere glimpse of it, than Kurogiri suddenly struck out, almost snake-like, nearly knocking the startled boy off his feet as he pushed him through the waiting gate.

Izuku gasped, falling unwillingly past the torn edges of the apartment and into the uninviting gloom. He flinched, bracing himself for the unknown...and landed on the floor of the apartment, a few feet from the couch. Right where he would have landed anyway, had the gate not been there.

Izuku blinked, confused. There was something...different about the room, however. It looked different. A lot dimmer than a moment ago. And everything appeared to have suddenly taken on a reddish hue.

Izuku looked up towards the gate as Kurogiri stepped through it after him. The tear appeared to stitch itself up behind him, perfectly mending reality back together as if nothing had happened.

"Welcome to the In-Between," Kurogiri stated, his tone no different from when he'd pointed out the bathroom earlier.

Izuku pushed himself to his seat, puzzled and more than a little wary.

"The realm of existence between my warp gates," Kurogiri further explained. "I presume you'd rather not remain tied to a chair, and I admittedly would rather not have to watch you constantly. So, it is here that you will find both freedom and captivity coinciding quite conveniently."

Izuku was more than a little confused, and it must have shown.

"You see," Kurogiri further explained, "any gate I create always connects to the In-Between first—one entering, and a second one exiting to my warp destination. I usually create the two gates immediately back to back, so the passage through the In-Between is negligible and overlooked. But if I create one lone gate with no corresponding exit, it always leads solely to the In-Between."

Izuku slowly drew to his feet, still nervous over the whole conversation. The red-tinged room had a strangely off feel to it. And he didn't like where Kurogiri was going with his explanation.

Kurogiri paused a brief moment before continuing. "Think of it as an overlay of normal reality. Or a shadow of it, perhaps. You're still in the real world, but not fully. You cannot interact with it. You cannot be seen, heard, or felt. You are essentially a ghost of sorts, if it's easier to look at it that way."

A hint of alarm tingled at the base of Izuku's neck. No, he certainly was not liking this.

"I'll come collect you in the morning," Kurogiri said, and Izuku suddenly felt anxious about the villain leaving. "In the meantime, however, feel free to make yourself at home."

Reality suddenly split again behind Kurogiri, and without further words of parting, the villain turned and calmly passed through the gate, stepping behind the counter once more.

The seam between the realities sealed itself back up, and Izuku found himself alone. ...Though not alone. Kurogiri was still there, behind the counter. Only, while he had looked normal to Izuku as he stood with him in the In-Between, he had now taken on the same deep red hue that everything else in the apartment bore.

Izuku cautiously approached the counter, watching the warp villain as he finished cleaning up the dinner mess. "...Kurogiri?" he asked hesitantly.

No response. No acknowledgement that he was even there.

"Kurogiri?" Izuku asked again, waving a hand in his direction.

Nothing.

Izuku went to pull a stool out of the way and lean against the counter, determined to really get in the villain's face, but something very unsettling happened instead. His hand never contacted the stool. It merely...sort of...brushed through it. As if the stool was nothing but an illusion. Or, no...as if he was nothing but an illusion...

That prickling alarm had now turned to full fear, further mounting on top of all the apprehension and dread that had already been steadily building since he'd awoken.

He tried touching the counter, the sink nozzle, Kurogiri himself, but everything was completely intangible. It was so strange. So unnerving.

...And it really did make for a perfect prison, Izuku realized.

He immediately turned for the front door. If he simply phased through everything...surely that meant that must be the case for the door as well, right?

He approached it slowly. Any escape attempts had been strictly warned against. Izuku didn't want to risk anything. ...But then again, perhaps that was what Kurogiri meant when he mentioned Izuku would find both freedom and imprisonment in the In-Between? Had he meant Izuku was free to leave? If the only way in or out of the In-Between was through Kurogiri's gates, then that must have meant the warp villain was confident in Izuku's inability to truly escape...

He reached for the door knob. He felt nothing as his hand instead disappeared through the door. The rest of him hesitantly followed.

He stepped out onto the walkway. It contacted a metal stairway leading up and down. Both cutting off into darkness. In fact, the apartment was surrounded by nothing but...complete darkness...

Curious, Izuku made his way down the metal staircase, making a note that his feet actually felt like they were contacting the steps—they didn't merely phase through them.

He followed the steps down as far as they led, and stepped off into the darkness. It was so strange. It was like being in a massive room with the lights turned off. Where was the city? It would have been extremely convenient to get an idea of where he was being held.

Hadn't Kurogiri said the In-Between essentially still existed as part of the real world? Everything present and happening in the real world could apparently be seen in the In-Between. So why couldn't Izuku see the city? Why was there nothing but...nothingness?

Izuku continued pressing through the dark, hoping a hint of light might suddenly show up ahead. This made no sense...

He'd been walking for several minutes, maybe longer, when he decided it was likely a lost cause and he'd better head back.

He turned around...and was met by nothing but more gloom. He'd gone too far from the stairs, he couldn't see them anymore...

Oh, crap..!

Izuku hastily headed back the way he came, but the endless darkness was disorienting; he couldn't really tell if he was heading straight in the right direction or not.

Minutes passed with no sign of the stairs. Izuku started running. He ran harder.

He should have encountered the stairs by now. He must have been off-course when he'd initially turned back.

Crap, crap. What if he couldn't find them? What if Kurogiri came looking for him in the morning, and considered this an escape attempt?

No. No, Izuku had to find his way back. He couldn't get lost in this weird, empty nothingness. He had to find the stairs. He had to get back to the apartment.

He kept running. Only, he was certain he'd overshot where the stairs should have been by now. Should he try turning around again? Should he keep running? He didn't know what to do.

The air felt strange in the In-Between. Different. Almost thinner, yet heavier in an odd way at the same time. He didn't like it. Everything felt off, and it was so dark, and everything had just...fallen so completely apart so abruptly that day. Yesterday, he supposed, really. When he'd been taken.

He slowed to a stop, hands on his knees as his lungs heaved.

Why had this all happened? How had he let all this happen..?

He'd let his guard down. He'd never even really had it up, to be honest. Not like he should have.

God, he'd been such an idiot!

Kacchan had warned him! Kacchan had tried to tell him how precarious his connection to All Might was. How crucial it was to always be mindful of it. How important it was for Izuku to stay safe. To keep One For All safe.

And Izuku had failed. He'd been flippant. He hadn't realized how vulnerable he really was. How easily manipulated he could be. All it had taken was one unsuspecting moment, and he was theirs. And further, all it took was one little threat, and he was helpless against them. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't risk testing their...well, their willingness to be villains. He knew they wouldn't hesitate to set a nomu loose on anyone. And they wouldn't even blink at harming Ochako's parents. And Toga had mentioned there was a lot more to their list of potential atrocities.

Gah, it was so maddening! It wasn't fair! What right did they have in taking Izuku from his home, from his mom, from his school program and his friends?

What gave them the right to interrupt someone's life so completely and maliciously?

It was just wrong. It was so wrong. Izuku hated the injustice of it all. He wanted to fight such an injustice so badly. As a provisional hero, he couldn't help wanting to fight it with everything in him.

His breath still heaved, though no longer due to runner's fatigue.

He was in the hands of villains. One For All was in the hands of villains. He'd let everyone down. All Might, his mom, Kacchan, their classmates... They were probably all...considerably worried (and he knew that was an understatement). Ugh, he hated the idea of them all worrying over him. He couldn't stand the thought that no one knew where he was. And All Might...he was probably blaming himself in some backwards way over the whole thing.

Izuku fumed further. He hated this. He hated everything about this.

He started running again. Straight into the darkness, nothing ahead, nothing behind. Only this time, One For All was propelling him forward, pushing him harder, faster, as fast as he could go.

He just wanted the darkness to end. He just wanted to run right out of this nightmare and wake up back at UA.

He pushed himself harder, further, just kept going and going, ignoring the growing ache in his lungs and the burn behind his muscles.

...And surprisingly, out of nowhere, light suddenly flickered up ahead.

Izuku blinked, hardly believing it. He ran straight towards it, refusing to stop.

It grew nearer and brighter, and eventually buildings, street lamps, cars—all the makings of a city took shape up ahead. It was the most welcome sight he'd ever seen.

Izuku made straight for it, eventually stepping from the darkness and onto a sidewalk, still not believing it.

It was late at night, there wasn't a whole lot of activity, but there was no mistaking it was familiar territory. He was in the northern part of Yokohama, not too far from Musutafu, actually. If he headed south towards the more coastal area, he could follow one of the main roads and eventually reach Dagobah Municipal Beach.

Izuku figured that was likely as good as a direction to head as any, and such a familiar and nostalgic sight might be the only source of comfort he'd find in the In-Between.

He wasn't certain if Kurogiri would be able to find him in the morning, but he had a feeling he would. The warp villain was likely capable of locating targets in the In-Between quite easily; otherwise, he probably wouldn't have been so unconcerned about essentially giving Izuku free run of it. He prayed Kurogiri would believe his story about becoming so easily lost outside of the apartment.

Izuku ran on, once again boosted by the speed of One For All. It was strange watching the city around him, when he took frequent breaks to rest. Everything was still dimmer than usual, even for it being nighttime, and the wash of dull red that overlay every source of light was surreal and eerie. The few cars and people that were out and about seemed to move a little...differently than normal. Almost as if the In-Between ran at a different frame rate from reality, if that made sense. Any movement Izuku viewed was slightly halting and uneven, and the faster an object moved, the more of a red blur it became.

Izuku noticed he still couldn't view the city in its entirety. Huge portions of it were blacked out by the same thick, impenetrable darkness Izuku had been lost in earlier. He stuck to the visible areas, mostly traversing the sidewalks, and eventually he found himself on the familiar strand of Degobah Beach.

He was close enough to go home, but he found himself surprisingly averse to the idea. He was quite certain his mom wouldn't be there, which would only make his home feel empty and depressing. And if they did for some reason happen to let her stay there, she'd either be asleep or (Izuku inwardly winced) distraught, and with no way to interact with her, it would be too painful to see.

The sea was dark, and the lamps lining the sidewalk were encircled by crimson pools, dotting the strand and growing smaller in the distance.

Izuku's eyelids had grown heavy. He was tired of running, and he didn't know where else to go. He approached one of the empty park benches lining the walk and figured it was as good a stopping point as any. When he moved to rest on it, however, he simply phased through it, landing roughly on his seat with a tired huff.

Izuku dropped to his back, blinking up at the underside of the bench. Too tired to give the bizarre and disheartening situation any further consideration, he rolled over into the sand (that didn't quite seem to shape to his weight), and fell asleep in moments.

* * *

Izuku woke to a red sun high in a muted sky.

He squinted his eyes open, taking in the ruddy surroundings of the In-Between. He was vaguely surprised there was no memory lapse upon waking in the strange environment. He remembered everything about the previous day all too clearly.

He pushed himself to his seat, surprised to notice there actually was a visible imprint denting the sand where he'd slept. Curious, he wondered if it had anything to do with how long he'd been stationary there. And it was actually somewhat encouraging; Kurogiri had assured him interaction with the real world wasn't possible in the In-Between.

"I supposed I'd likely find you here," a passive voice sounded behind him.

Izuku turned, apprehension pricking at him as he met familiar yellow eyes set in shadow.

"K-Kurogiri," Izuku stammered, scrambling to his feet. "I didn't mean to—I wasn't trying to run away, I swear, I—I just got lost in the dark outside of—outside the apartment, and I tried to find my way back, but I—but it—it was just too dark..."

"It doesn't matter where you go in the In-Between," Kurogiri explained, smoothly interrupting Izuku's stammering. "There's nothing you can do, and nowhere I can't find you." He paused a moment, gesturing to the flickering gate behind him. "Shall we return?"

Izuku was relieved at Kurogiri's ready dismissal of the situation. And while he really didn't like the idea of reuniting with Shigaraki and the others, he was a little anxious to leave the In-Between behind for the time being.

He hesitated a moment before stepping forward. "Kurogiri," he began, curious. "You said the In-Between mirrored the real world—or was kind of part of the real world, right? What's with all the empty patches of darkness, then? I couldn't see anything outside the apartment's staircase."

The villain didn't seem particularly opposed to answering, and Izuku was grateful for his straightforward and surprisingly reasonable demeanor. "There's a significant and curious amount of power of perception at play in the In-Between," Kurogiri explained. "Anyplace you've never visited or seen with your physical eyes in reality won't be visible in the In-Between. That's the case for me as well, though I'm still capable of sensing and locating a target in the In-Between, no matter where they go."

Ah, that explained it. Good to know, if a little disheartening—realizing he wouldn't be able to see where exactly the villains' hideout was located.

As much as the entire situation maddened Izuku and just...sucked all around, at least it wasn't worse. At least there was an alternative to keeping him strapped to a chair at all times.

He knew he'd have to keep clinging to any little snippet of 'bright side' he could, no matter how small or insignificant. It might be the only thing that got him through this.

And Izuku knew he had to get through this. For All Might's sake. For his mom's sake. For the sake of One For All. ...And for his own sake.

He would get through it. He'd figure out what to do.

Izuku took an uncertain breath and followed the villain, stepping reluctantly through the black fissure that split the sidewalk in two.

* * *

 **I was hoping to get at least one chapter out a month with this, and it looks like I barely made it in July! I'm sorry my writing pace is a little slower than I'd like, but I'll keep working at this as much as this busy time of year allows.**

 **I knew this chapter introducing the In-Between was going to be on the longer side, but it ended up being a struggle to finally get it to wrap up. There was just a lot to include here. Thanks for sticking with it!**

 **I obviously took some creative liberties with the specifics behind Kurogiri's quirk, but applying some fairly unique headcanon is one of my favorite aspects of fanfiction. I hope you guys are on board with the idea of a parallel dimension prison of sorts. I think it's going to make for some pretty fun plot points up ahead.**

 **Fifty bucks says Izuku's going to make his way back to school in the In-Between and get a first-hand glimpse at some of the angst that's been plaguing class 1-A (and in particular, a certain explosive blond boy) since his disappearance. D:**

 **Thanks for reading! And I can't thank you enough for your feedback up to this point! I'm so grateful for any and all comments you guys are willing to share.**


	11. Bad Case of the Mondays

Monday dawned brighter and earlier than it should have.

Bakugo was slow to wake. He felt shitty from the moment his eyes cracked open. He wanted to blame it on all the recent late nights, but he knew it wasn't just inadequate sleep that was making him feel like such shit.

It was the dread-filled dreams that wouldn't stop interrupting his restless sleep. It was the stifling anxiety that had been clutching at his chest nonstop since Saturday.

It was Deku's empty bed across the room.

Bakugo tried to keep his eyes from falling on it as he pushed himself to his seat. He tried not to notice the undisturbed dome of the pillow, the unwrinkled spread of the comforter. The silence from the bathroom.

Shit.

He rubbed at a dull eye, trying to ignore his sinking stomach as he grabbed for his phone, silencing the alarm.

The goddamn empty dorm room wasn't any less bothersome than it had been the night before, and Bakugo really just...goddamn it, he didn't like it. Couldn't stand it, if he was being honest. How the hell was he supposed to be okay with glimpsing that goddamn vacant bed across the room every time he glanced up? How the hell was he supposed to ignore what a shitty, accurate metaphor it was for how...goddammit, how empty his own goddamn insides felt?

God, he hated admitting shit like that to himself.

The only thing he should be feeling was anger. Anger at the League's unbelievable audacity. Anger at Deku's infuriating stupidity. Anger at his own stupid-ass failure at keeping Deku safe.

But it wasn't just anger that was twisting at his insides. The whole situation scared the shit out of him, and also...ached in a weird and very unpleasant way, and he didn't know how to deal with it. He hadn't known how to deal with it when he caused All Might all that shit, and he sure as hell still didn't know how to deal with it in Deku's case.

Ugh. Deku.

Where the hell _was_ he...?

Bakugo could hardly stand sparing the stupid nerd a passing thought on a normal day. He always made a point of ignoring him as best he could—always tried to his hardest to keep the nerd's goddamn annoying enthusiasm as far from his range of vision or hearing as possible. He tried to stay in denial over the fact the lucky nerd had somehow actually made it into UA with him—tried to forget his presence entirely when he could.

And now, despite all his efforts at constantly keeping his attention as far from Deku as possible, Bakugo couldn't keep his goddamn thoughts from being consumed by the kid.

He couldn't think of anything else—he wouldn't be able to think of anything else until there was a stupid mop of green hair splayed across that stupid pillow on that effing empty bed across the room. Back where it belonged.

Ugh, it was all such bullshit!

Bakugo brought his phone up, pounding in his pin to unlock it.

He hadn't noticed his goddamn insides creeping up towards his throat, and when he found his home screen devoid of any calls or texts declaring Deku's recovery, he hated how far they seemed to drop with disappointment.

He hadn't wanted to admit to himself he'd been hoping to wake to good news. But he had.

The disappointment quickly turned back to anger, building further as Bakugo pulled up a news app, hoping to find any new developments in Deku's case.

His breath grew more heated the further he scrolled, finding nothing new. Nothing encouraging.

It had been two goddamn days. It had nearly been forty-eight effing hours since Deku had disappeared, and Bakugo knew that was a critical mark to be approaching. He remembered hearing (ironically, when he was watching a news commentary on his own kidnapping case while sitting chained up in the villains' hideout) that chances of locating a missing person were always greatest within the first forty-eight hours. The trail of potential leads grew significantly colder after that point. ...And chances of finding the subject alive...decreased.

He forced another tense and smoldering breath through his nose. Fuck this. Eff the goddamn news, eff the bastard villains, and eff his shitty-ass lungs for feeling so goddamn constricted all the goddamn time now.

He considered texting Tsukauchi or All Might directly and asking for an update, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Ugh, it sucked bad enough admitting to himself how shit troubled he was, but to admit it to anyone else would be too much at the moment.

Hopefully Aizawa would have some new information to share with the class, and hopefully it wouldn't be as goddamn aggravating as everything else was that morning.

Bakugo swallowed back the irritation stopping up his windpipe and threw his covers aside, ready to get going on all the bullshit of the day. The sooner he got through training and classes, the sooner he could finally sit down and really think about what the hell to do about Deku's situation.

He chose a smaller, more obscure gym to train in. One on the opposite end of the school from their home room. It was mostly filled with second years whom Bakugo had little trouble ignoring.

What he did have trouble with was concentrating on his goddamn moves. He couldn't focus. He kept overshooting everything, and overcompensating after each stupid mistake, and honestly, the whole session was a bit of a mess. All he really accomplished was piling more aggravation onto the heap that was already consuming him, and it certainly wasn't helping anything.

By the time he was ready to call it, he'd managed to clear the training area of the majority of the annoying second year extras. The fact that most of them had scrambled out of the gym with alarm on their faces brought Bakugo at least some small measure of satisfaction, though it did little to distract him from the constant anxiety.

He grabbed some food at one of the vendors in the main building's cafeteria and he forced it down quickly, avoiding all eye contact unless anyone was ballsy enough to come within a five foot radius of him—which immediately warranted a death glare. Luckily, he didn't encounter any of his classmates, and no one else was stupid enough to bother him.

He came through the back entrance to the dorms, heading straight for Deku's room to shower and dress. He didn't directly cross paths with anyone on the way in, and after quickly and efficiently getting ready, his quiet exit out the back once again saw the same preferred scenario.

He was early to class—the first one there, which was his usual aim. His careful avoidance of everyone was about to prove pointless, however. There would be no escaping them in class. And today was going to be...exceptionally shitty.

His desk was still side-by-side with Deku's (and he was quick to ignore his insides clenching a fraction tighter at the sight), and he took a seat, not wasting any time in pulling his shit out of his bag. He wanted to get class started and over with as quickly as possible.

He stared straight ahead, determined not to notice everyone else as they filtered in. Determined not to notice their bleak and fearful eyes seeking him out and lingering longer than necessary. Determined not to notice their uncertain steps, their hesitant claims to their seats, the collective breath they all seemed to be holding.

But he noticed it all anyway.

The class filled slowly and silently. The atmosphere was thick and foreign and wrong and so...noticeably Deku-less.

The lead of Bakugo's pencil suddenly snapped, leaving a deep divot in his notebook where he'd been aggressively scratching down the date.

Goddammit.

He hated their silence. He hated their concerned and searching glances flickering over and over in his direction. He hated the goddamn empty desk next to him.

Shit, how was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to quietly sit there without blowing up half the room, while every pair of eyes kept wandering to him, and Kirishima's gaze wouldn't leave him, and a goddamn empty desk was staring him in the face?

Luckily Aizawa chose that moment to enter the classroom, effectively disrupting Bakugo's quickly-derailing train of thought.

The silence seemed to somehow thicken even further at his appearance. All eyes fixed fast on him.

Aizawa sort of took his time in stepping up to his desk. It was pretty apparent the weekend had been just as shitty for him as it had for the rest of them, and Bakugo suspected he didn't want to be there either. It likely didn't feel right to him either, attempting a normal class.

It just felt like such bullshit. One of their own was currently in the hands of villains. What the hell were they all doing there in the first place, if not preparing themselves in how to counter and deal with such an exact scenario? They should be out _doing_ something for Deku. Not sitting on their asses in class, pretending to give a shit about any schoolwork that day.

Aizawa cleared his throat, heavy-lidded eyes finally lifting to meet the class. "As I'm sure you're all...aware by now," he began, and there was more than just the usual tired stoicism behind his tone. "Midoriya has...been missing...since Saturday morning. ...Villain involvement is heavily suspected." The words sounded heavy and difficult to say. It was hard to place exactly what Bakugo was hearing behind Aizawa's voice. Repressed anger—fairly poorly-repressed, actually. Still the usual note of fatigue, no surprise there. But Bakugo was listening closely for fear or dread. He didn't want to hear even a hint of either in his teacher's voice, since he knew it would likely be an accurate reflection of how the investigation was faring so far.

Aizawa took a quiet breath and continued. "I'm afraid I don't have much more information to share with you apart from what you've read in the news, but I can assure you that the entire school staff, at least half of the local hero agencies, and every member of both the private and unified detectives agencies are heavily involved in this case and working around the clock to locate and bring Midoriya home."

The heavy air in the room seemed to shift from apprehensive to upset. Several of the kids spoke out at once.

"What current leads do they have—?"

"Is it the League again—?!"

"It's been two days! How can they not have any new information for us?!"

"Where _is_ he?"

Aizawa didn't seem to have it in him to interrupt them. He was patient, merely holding up a waiting hand. "I know you're all desperate for answers, and believe me, you're not alone." He paused a moment, waiting for another handful of questions to die down. "When I tell you we have multiple teams and sources working nonstop—searching for and following every minuscule tip or lead that comes up, I'm not exaggerating—"

"Why hasn't the League come out and said anything?" Kirishima demanded. "They're obviously the ones behind it! Why would they attempt this shit again?! Why Midoriya?!"

Aizawa didn't scold Kirishima for his choice of words.

"Yeah, why pull this again after their attempt at taking Bakugo backfired so badly?" Tail questioned.

"They really haven't said anything?" one of the girls asked.

"Is Shigaraki trying to get back at All Might? Is that why they targeted another student?" Another girl, maybe the invisible one, questioned.

"Is Midoriya okay? They have to at least know if he's okay or not!" That was Ashido.

"Can't you tell us _anything?_ " Kaminari pressed.

Aizawa maintained his patience. "I know Midoriya's a good friend to all of you, and I know how difficult this is—especially considering it's not the first time you've dealt with a missing classmate." Bakugo could feel his eyes briefly skim in his direction, but he refused to meet them.

"'Missing' and 'taken against his will' aren't exactly the same thing..." Bakugo heard Sero mutter quietly to himself in the adjacent row.

Aizawa went on. "Trust the heroes. Trust the law enforcement. Trust in Midoriya," he said, his voice sounding resolute for the first time that morning. "He's strong. He's smart. He's a capable hero in training, with the wits and level-headedness to hold his own. I'm confident he's doing what he can on his end to help us find him."

Quiet sniffles permeated the silence as Aizawa paused, and Bakugo's blood raced. He wasn't sure why the poorly-stifled tears made him so angry, exactly; he didn't even know who it was coming from. It was just the way everyone was acting like Deku was already dead, and how everyone's despondency and grief and fear was all essentially his fault—he was the last one who'd seen Deku, the last one who had been with him. He'd known about the threat against him, and he hadn't dealt with it properly. He hadn't reported it like he knew he should have. And now Deku was gone, and the entire class had gone to hell, and there weren't any leads, and the clock was ticking ever closer to that goddamn forty-eight hour mark, and it was such bullshit.

And, God, it made him mad.

Bakugo attempted to swallow his rage as he realized Aizawa was still talking. "—mean to be callous in any way by saying this, but it needs to be said, regardless: There will be no repeated actions even remotely similar to the behavior displayed during the Kamino Ward incident."

It was kind of tactful of him to not outright say 'during Bakugo's kidnapping,' but Bakugo still couldn't help gritting his teeth at its mention. He vaguely noticed Kirishima's head droop out of the corner of his eye, and he tried to ignore the goddamn twinge in his gut that followed.

"Everything regarding this investigation will continue to be handled by the professionals. Weekend visits home, or leaving the school premises at all is prohibited for the time being, except in the case of family-related emergencies or your parents personally excusing you."

The atmosphere in the room thickened as everyone seemed to fully realize what a goddamn mess the entire situation was. The whole school was basically on lockdown—the staff couldn't risk the chance of any other villain-related shit going down. Bakugo could tell he wasn't the only one who'd been wanting to get the hell out of there and go find Deku that evening. And now they were being told that absolutely wasn't a possibility. Such bullshit.

Bakugo knew the school would take a firm stance after the stunt his classmates had pulled to aid in his own rescue, so he couldn't really say he was surprised. But hearing it laid out so firmly like that made him fume, and it was a struggle to keep himself from shaking.

"We'll share whatever new information we can with you when we learn it, and I know it's going to take extra effort to focus on your studies in the meantime. And I'll be honest, it isn't any easier having to fill the teacher's position right now. But we're all going to have to show each other what heroes are really made of in frightening and uncertain situations such as this." Aizawa paused and took a breath. "Stay hopeful. Stay positive. Stay committed to each other as a class, and extend what strength and encouragement you can to one another—"

Bakugo chose that point to tune him out.

... _Stay hopeful? Stay positive? Fuck you, Aizawa. Tell me something useful, or point me in the direction of those son of a bitch villains so I can go blow them off the face of the fucking planet. Where the hell do you get off telling us to stay effing_ positive?

Bakugo's breaths were shallow and sharp to the point of stinging. It was taking all his restraint to sit there.

He knew he couldn't blame Aizawa as much as he wanted to though. What the hell else was he supposed to say to a classroom full of frightened, distressed kids?

There was nothing to say, and that was the truth. Deku was gone. There were no leads, and if any of the kids got any bright ideas of going to look for him, they could kiss their goddamn spot at UA goodbye.

That was the situation summed up right there.

That was the bullshit Bakugo was being told to accept.

He couldn't though.

He wouldn't.

There had to be something. Something they could do. Some lead that would turn up. They couldn't be forced to just sit on their asses for who knew how long, waiting and effing 'hoping.'

Goddammit...just...ugh, goddammit all to hell.

Eyes kept shifting in his direction throughout class. Bakugo never looked up from his notes, but he could feel them all the same. He wondered if everyone could tell how livid he was, since their gazes were lined with concern or wariness or some shit. They could all shove it up their asses, for all Bakugo cared. He didn't want their effing concern. He didn't want any scrutiny aimed his way from any of them whatsoever. He'd blow their goddamn faces off if it got them to stop glancing over at him.

And if Kirishima didn't turn the eff back towards the front of the class for _once_...

Somehow, the clock's hands managed to continue their rounds, and ten o' clock came and went. The forty-eight hour mark had officially passed.

And Deku's desk looked emptier than ever.

Lunch came and Bakugo couldn't get the hell out of there fast enough. He was half expecting Aizawa to ask him to stay behind for a few and attempt some sort of shitty-ass 'talk.' Aizawa undoubtedly could tell how shittily Bakugo was handling the whole situation, despite his efforts to hide it. And the absolute last thing Bakugo wanted was any of his teachers attempting to get him to divulge his goddamn 'feelings' about the whole thing. Fuck that.

Bakugo had all his shit gathered and was ready to bail at the first tone of the bell. The classroom door was probably already closing behind him before Aizawa even caught a glimpse of him leaving. He'd have to get up a hell of a lot earlier than that if he planned on cornering Bakugo.

Kirishima must have been prepared for Bakugo to split, because he was somehow already on his tail.

"Bakugo!"

Bakugo pretended not to hear, weaving (shoving) his way through the quickly crowding hallway.

"Bakugo! Wait up!"

Bakugo couldn't help feeling a little crappy for ignoring him. He knew Kirishima was always careful not to annoy or irk him too much (unless he was in one of his random teasing moods, which was always the most goddamn annoying thing ever), and he knew he was merely legitimately concerned for him.

He just...he couldn't face him yet. He couldn't face anyone yet. Not when he was so goddamn angry over Deku's absence he could hardly see straight.

How could they not have any freaking leads by now?

And what did that mean? What angle was the League attempting to take by their two-day silence?

Surely they hadn't... _hurt_ Deku...had they?

Goddammit, they weren't going to...find his lifeless body dumped in a ditch somewhere, were they?

God fucking dammit, he couldn't think about it. He couldn't think any further on what the lack of leads might possibly indicate. It was too...well, apart from being goddamn infuriating, it was...it was...goddammit, it was frightening.

And Bakugo didn't do 'frightening.' 'Afraid' wasn't something he allowed himself to feel very often. Because he was competent. He was always in control. He was smart and skilled and blessed with one of the best goddamn quirks he knew of, so there was hardly ever a reason or situation to cause him fear.

But the thought that Deku...stupid, shitty Deku...might not...might not ever...

Ugh, goddammit, he needed to knock this shit off.

His breaths were tight, and he swore to God if he felt even the slightest hint of warmth behind his eyes, he was going to lose his shit.

He didn't know how to handle this shit. How the hell was he supposed to get out of his own head?

It was such bullshit.

Bakugo forced some shit down for lunch, avoiding the cafeteria and any and all groups of people as best he could.

How could the shitty-ass day not be over yet? How could he possibly be expected to sit through another three pointless hours of class that afternoon?

He was strategically a little later than usual in arriving back to class, since he knew Kirishima was on a mission to corner him at any chance. He managed to avoid any unwanted conversations yet again, and he kept his gaze trained on his notebook, intent on keeping it there all class.

All Might didn't show, and Bakugo couldn't say he was surprised. Thirteen filled in for him, and Bakugo had to sit through another shit-poor pick-me-up lecture from the stout teacher about Deku's situation.

Fuck this day. Fuck everything about it.

Kirishima was ready for him this time when the bell rang. Bakugo hadn't quite made it out the door when he felt a strong grip on his shoulder.

"Dude, would you slow down for once?"

Bakugo immediately shrugged him off—maybe a little more harshly than he intended, but he really just didn't want to get caught up in all the shitty-ass, sniffling extras leaving the class.

"What?" Bakugo barely slowed, continuing out towards the hall.

Kirishima followed closely. "You've been ignoring and avoiding me for the last two days, and it's...it's kinda bogus, man."

Bakugo kept his gaze forward, but his scowl deepened significantly at that. Since when the hell had he become responsible for Shitty Hair's shitty feelings?

Kirishima's quick pace beside him didn't falter. Clearly, somewhere along the previous months, Kirishima had let go of a substantial amount of his previously adhered-to caution when dealing with Bakugo. He wasn't as intimidated by him anymore, and Bakugo found it both impressive at times, and irritating at others. This was definitely one of the irritating times.

"What do you want?" Bakugo wasn't really meaning to growl, but it still came out that way.

"Dude, I just want to talk to you is all," Kirishima replied, and there was actually a hint of hesitance as he chose his words this time. "Everyone's been going out of their minds over Midoriya, and you won't say shit to anyone—me included—and it's just worrying the hell out of us all."

A muscle near Bakugo's jaw jumped as his teeth tightened.

Kirishima continued. "You're probably the only one who has any sort of idea of what's going on, and—I mean—I get that this is just as shitty and messed up for you, too, but—"

"Goddammit, Shitty Hair, is there a point to this, or are you just running your damn mouth?"

Kirishima's voice softened a fraction at that—either from being slightly hurt or wanting to take an even more careful approach with his words, Bakugo wasn't sure. "Bakugo...it's...I'm just worried, man."

Bakugo wanted to reply with a _no shit, who isn't, asstard_? but he chose not to respond, instead.

"Look, can I just...can I come by your room in a bit?"

"I've got too much shit to do." Bakugo replied shortly. Something was gnawing at his stomach a little though, and it pissed him off. "Look, just...text me later, and I'll tell you if I'm done with my crap or not, alright?"

Kirishima seemed to brighten a touch at that.

Bakugo continued making his way through the crowd, intentionally losing Kirishima along the way, and headed straight for the dorms.

He immediately shut himself up in his (Deku's) room and threw his bag hard to the side. He stood staring a moment, clenching his fists and jaw tight. It seemed to take effort to make his feet finally move towards his desk.

The morning had been complete shit. Just like he knew it would.

No leads. After two days. No fucking leads.

What the hell?

What the hell were the villains playing at? They'd been very brazen when they'd taken Bakugo—attempting the whole thing during their secure and chaperoned summer training camp. Why had Deku's disappearance been so quiet? Why were they still offering nothing but goddamn silence?

It was all undoubtedly aimed at All Might. Shigaraki was certainly pissed about their boss villain's defeat, and this must have been his attempt at getting even. A 'you take mine, I'll take yours' type thing.

How much did Shigaraki know about Deku's connection to All Might though? It was probably pretty apparent that All Might had a particular soft spot for Deku to anyone in the public paying close enough attention. But what did Shigaraki know beyond Deku being one of All Might's favorite students? Did he know anything about One For All?

The boss villain, the one who was now in custody, had seemed to have a history with All Might—Bakugo had caught brief snippets of them conversing during their battle in Kamino Ward. Did the boss villain have an extensive enough history with All Might to know about One For All? Would he have known All Might had already passed it on to someone else? Would he have ever suspected Deku? Had he suggested such to Shigaraki?

Ughh, too many goddamn questions.

And so much goddamn anxiety surrounding them all. Bakugo wasn't familiar with all this constant anxiety, and he hated the way it just wouldn't stop twisting at his goddamn stomach.

It had been two days of this shit now. Why the hell couldn't they just find out where Deku was, already?!

Gah, goddammit!

Bakugo was about to pull his phone out and scroll the news for the hundredth time that day, but he stopped himself. He was already too worked up—he'd been too worked up the entire goddamn day. He needed a distraction. And as shitty as his homework sounded, it was the only productive thing that might get his mind off all this shit for a bit.

Though, God, Bakugo couldn't shake the shitty-ass guilt that suddenly joined his anxiety, twisting and pulling at his insides as he set his school books out and unwillingly eyed the empty desk next to him.

For some goddamn reason it just didn't feel fair that he was able to do his shitty homework and Deku wasn't. He was able to keep progressing, but Deku's advancements had been interfered, hindered.

What the hell gave them the right to interrupt Deku's schooling? It was the most bogus bullshit ever!

Bakugo might not like admitting it, but even he was aware of how hard the nerd had worked his ass off to come as far as he had. And he was supposed to keep going. Deku still had such a long-ass ways to go.

Bakugo kind of hated realizing a tiny part of him actually wanted to see how far Deku was capable of going—how much of a competition Deku could end up providing. Deku's recent growth and advancements had been both maddening and motivating. Infuriating and weirdly exhilarating.

Yeah, alright, maybe Deku had _almost_ become something of a legitimate rival lately. It was Deku Bakugo found himself eyeing most frequently in class competitions. It was Deku's score Bakugo was the most fearful about failing to surpass in exams and graded practicals (despite Yaoyorozu and Icy Hot posing the more likely threat).

It was Deku that was keeping Bakugo on his toes. It was Deku giving Bakugo that unintentional nudge of _you've gotta do better_.

It was Deku that Bakugo wanted to beat to the top. No one else came close to fanning the flames of Bakugo's inner will to win like Deku did.

And Deku was gone.

Shit.

That clenching feeling in Bakugo's chest was getting to be too much again. His breaths were too jumpy. And goddammit, there was definitely something prickling behind his eyes.

He had to figure out a way to be done with this shit.

He had to figure out a way to stop thinking about effing Deku, because every time he did his goddamn eyes and chest and lungs and, God, effing _everything_ insisted on having a goddamn nonsensical fucking breakdown.

God, what the hell?

Deku was an idiot. Bakugo had never cared about that stupid kid. He'd been the most annoying kid on the planet since the day he first learned to open his goddamn mouth. He never stopped talking, and he was always so goddamn annoyingly enthusiastic about everything, and he was always trailing Bakugo and liking the same shit he did, and trying his hardest to keep up, and still cheering Bakugo on despite Bakugo surpassing him at literally everything. Surpassing him and making sure to rub it in his face.

And Deku would get back up. He'd get back up time and time again, and brush himself off, and let that same old apologetic grin tug at him, and get right back to being so goddamn _nice_ all the time.

God, he was such a goddamn nice kid all the time. It was probably one of the things Bakugo hated the most about him. Because Bakugo had never understood it, and had never known how to accept it, had never known how to return it, had never known how to replicate it. It confused him and infuriated him, and it made him feel so goddamn shitty about himself sometimes that the only way he knew how to respond, the only way he _could_ respond was to push Deku as hard and as far away as possible.

It was that innate goodness about Deku that Bakugo had always both hated and envied the most. It was that unfailing kindness. That unbeatable enthusiasm.

Bakugo would never in a million years have imagined how much it would suck not having any of it around anymore.

He hated himself for realizing all this shit, and he hated even more that he was potentially realizing it too late, and goddammit, the stinging heat behind his eyes was way too threatening again.

He pulled his goddamn book closer and hunched over it, willing the shitty-ass text to come back into focus.

* * *

Bakugo didn't eat dinner at the usual time. He waited until later. Quite a bit later—till he was done with all his homework plus two hours of study time. He didn't feel like leaving his room, and he didn't feel like seeing anyone, and he goddamn didn't feel like being watched with those shitty, tentative glances everywhere he went.

He needed to eat something though. He figured it was late enough there likely wouldn't be many, if any, kids in the kitchen or common area. And if anyone did encounter him down there one-on-one, they'd probably bail as quick as they could.

He made his way downstairs, faintly relieved to find the common area empty, and made straight for the kitchen, fishing an apple from the fridge and pouring a bowl of shitty cereal.

He chewed slowly, leaning back against the counter and trying to keep his thoughts far from anything remotely associated with the color green, but it was difficult.

He drew himself up with a long breath, tossing the core and rinsing the bowl in one listless motion.

He stepped back out towards the stairs and nearly jumped at the sudden sound of the elevator.

Shit.

The doors slid open and Bakugo suddenly found himself facing way too many faces that he had absolutely no desire to see at the moment.

Kirishima, Half 'n' Half, Roundface, Glasses, Sero, Kaminari and Yaoyorozu.

What the hell? What the freak were they all doing together at this hour? Had they known he was down here?

Too many bleak eyes blinked at him in surprise, but it was Kirishima that spoke. "Bakugo! Hey, man, what're you doing down here?"

Bakugo just stood glaring, his escape route effectively blocked as his classmates filed out of the elevator and sort of gathered around him.

Kirishima had stepped up to him. "You didn't respond to my text earlier, so I thought you maybe went to bed early. I was gonna stop by your room, but I was worried I'd wake you."

"I was busy with homework. What the hell is this?" He didn't want to make eye contact with any of them, but he unintentionally ended up scanning the group. Four Eyes was unusually subdued. Roundface's eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Icy Hot was his usual goddamn intolerable self, only there might have somehow been a hint more iciness to his demeanor. Kaminari and Sero both hung near Kirishima, watching Bakugo closely and warily, like they didn't quite know what to do with themselves as his second-closest friends whom he obviously didn't want to see any more than the rest of them that night.

"We all decided to meet up tonight to get a chance to...you know...talk about everything," Kirishima replied. "We were hoping you'd join us, and I tried to invite you," Kirishima continued, "but you haven't exactly been easy to get ahold of lately..."

Bakugo's eyes narrowed at that. God, this was annoying. "What the hell is there to talk about? Didn't you hear Aizawa earlier? They don't know shit."

"But you do," Roundface suddenly cut in, her voice an unsteady plea. "Please, Bakugo." Her eyes were getting all shimmery, and the sight made Bakugo's brow pinch further in anger. "Please tell us what happened—when you last saw Deku—what you know of the villains' involvement. Please—We...we just..." Her voice was straining, and Bakugo hated listening to her. He hated all their goddamn despondency. It was as if it was multiplying his own shit by ten, and it was aggravating as all eff.

He merely stood there glaring, trying and failing to pace his breathing. He was wary of replying because he'd been reminded many times in the past that it was a douchey move to yell at girls—especially when they were already crying.

A mild scoff suddenly sounded from Icy Hot's direction. "Forget it, Uraraka." Icy Hot's words were dripping with disdain, which was surprising, since the son of a bitch was always so carefully stoic. "He's probably shown more concern for a missing sock before," Icy Hot spat out, turning dismissively towards the couches.

Icy Hot may as well have pulled the literal trigger of a firearm for how fast Bakugo reacted—how fast his already boiling and racing pulse jumped to a new record high.

He closed the gap between them faster than any of the shitty extras could blink, roughly gripping Icy Hot's shoulder and whipping him back around to face him. "What the fuck did you say, you piece of shit?!"

Kirishima already had a warning hand on him, and Bakugo vaguely noticed the other guys hastily drawing near as well.

"You heard me," Icy Hot said, jerking his arm free. "You don't give a shit about Midoriya," he accused, his voice filled with enough heat to make his asshole father proud. "You knew about the threat against him! You knew and you didn't say anything! You didn't tell anyone—you let him leave. And now he's gone, and you still won't say shit to anyone because you're probably fucking _glad_ Midoriya's out of your way for once. You're probably fucking _thrilled_ at the thought he might not ever be able to one-up or out-perform you again, or legitimately beat you to number one—"

If there was more to Icy Hot's startling and uncharacteristic outburst, Bakugo didn't wait to find out. He had already launched himself at the other boy with a deafening roar, fists popping with explosions he couldn't keep back.

He was going to kill that fucker. He was going to legitimately blow him out of existence.

Or he was, if Kirishima hadn't suddenly wrapped two stone-solid arms around him, one locking at his elbow, the other looping firmly around his middle. Sero was quick to snag his other arm, fighting hard to hold him back.

Apparently Todoroki was more than game for a fight as well, as Glasses and Kaminari had jumped in and were struggling to keep a firm restraining grip on him.

"Whoa, come on, guys—!"

"Knock it off, you two!"

"What the hell! Stop!"

"I'll kill you, you son of a bitch! You piece-of-shit dumbfuck bastard, I'll fucking _kill_ y— _mmph_!"

Kirishima was quick to bring a softened hand up, cutting off Bakugo's vehement rant. "Bakugo, dude, stop! You're gonna wake the whole building up—including Aizawa!"

Bakugo jerked his face free, fuming and indignant. "Get the hell off me!" He twisted and shrugged at the two holding him, but they were reluctant to ease up.

Icy Hot seemed to have calmed fairly quickly—Four Eyes and Kaminari had tentatively released him, and he stood there, gaze down, straightening his now stretched and rumpled sweatshirt.

Bakugo gave another furious shove at Sero and Kirishima, and they finally let him go.

"You don't know _shit_ about me and Deku, you Icy Hot fucktard," Bakugo said, pulling his shirt down as he straightened. "Absolute, goddamn _shit_. So don't you ever talk to me about him again, do you understand me?" He wanted to say more. There was so much more he wanted to say, but his chest was heaving so hard it was painful, and his vision had gone bleary around the edges, and goddammit, he'd sworn he wasn't going to show them any of this shit!

God, he hated Icy Hot. He hated everything about that conceited asshole.

But most of all, he hated that he was right.

The whole thing was Bakugo's fault. He had known about the threat. He'd let Deku leave without telling anyone anything, and despite his attempts, he'd failed to keep Deku safe. He'd let him go off by his goddamn self, and now Deku was gone and their whole class had gone to shit, and he didn't know if there would ever be an end to how shitty it all felt.

He just stood there, staring at the ground and clenching his fists so tight it hurt. His goddamn breathing was starting to shake, and he knew his shitty eyes were shining, so he kept them trained down, refusing to lift his glare. It was all he could do to keep his quirk back.

"Bakugo..." Kirishima's voice was soft and lined with what sounded like understanding, and it really pissed Bakugo off. He had to get the hell out of there, but he was still frozen, trying to keep everything in check. Trying to keep the goddamn warmth in his eyes from growing any stronger.

Roundface decided to pipe up, breaking the tense silence. "We wanted to get together and talk about what we could do to help Deku, but this isn't helping anyone at all, you guys..." Her voice was small and sad and exhausted, and Bakugo realized she probably hadn't gotten any more sleep than he had the past few days.

"Ochako's right," Yaoyorozu quietly agreed. "We're all frustrated and worried, and taking it out on each other will only make it all worse."

"Deku's absence is solely the fault of the villains, and theirs alone," Four Eyes added, crossing his arms. "Attempting to bear fault or cast blame is wrong and unbecoming of heroes in training such as us." His eyes shifted between Bakugo and Icy Hot. "If Bakugo doesn't feel up to talking about it yet, we should respect that. There's still plenty we can discuss of ways to possibly help without breaking any rules."

The others nodded solemnly. Most of their gazes had also sought the floor, and Bakugo was a little relieved they weren't studying him too closely for once.

After a long moment, Kirishima spoke up again. "Why don't we all just try to get some rest for now, and we can...try again tomorrow?"

A silent agreement followed, and the tension eased somewhat, though Bakugo and Icy Hot still refused to look at the other.

"Hopefully Aizawa will have some encouraging news tomorrow," Kaminari suggested, still uncharacteristically meek. Bakugo knew Kaminari hated legitimate animosity between his friends. Almost as much as Kirishima did.

Without another word or glance at the group, Bakugo silently turned for the stairs, his insides a complete and crumpled mess.

* * *

Tuesday wasn't any better.

Once again, Bakugo woke to no news. His training session was off. And class, unsurprisingly, was shit.

Todoroki had the nerve to pause near his desk first thing in the morning and offer an unsolicited apology. ("Look...I didn't mean to take my frustrations over Midoriya's situation out on you last night. I'm sorry.") He hadn't looked at him as he said it, and he didn't wait for a reply before moving on to his seat, which was just as well, since the only response Bakugo had to offer was a look that might have killed.

Aizawa attempted more weak-ass, phony encouragement, while failing to deliver anything useful yet again.

Bakugo took his lunch alone and All Might had the audacity not to show in the afternoon once more. Instead, Thirteen conducted a lackluster class skirmish, and Bakugo knew his building anger was getting the better of him, but he couldn't stop it. Pretty much everyone ended up getting singed by him at one point or another, despite their collective attempt at avoiding engaging with him as much as possible.

He knew he was becoming increasingly difficult to be around, but he couldn't help it. His anger and disbelief at the continued lack of any news regarding Deku was gradually consuming him.

By Wednesday, Bakugo's volatile demeanor and behavior had reached an unprecedented high. It was bolstered by his and everyone else's fear and dread becoming near-palpable by this point, and the entire school seemed to be even more careful about not coming within fifteen yards of him or letting their eyes drift in his general direction whatsoever.

Kirishima had stopped pushing him to open up, and had taken to patiently giving him his space. He still kept a close and wary watch on Bakugo, but he didn't attempt to force anything. Bakugo was partially grateful and partially hated how good at being considerate Kirishima was. It made him feel shittier.

Honestly though, how could there still be nothing? How in God's name could there still be zero progress in recovering Deku?! Aizawa had assured them they had top professionals working tirelessly on the case. Why were they so effing incompetent; why the hell couldn't they just do their fucking jobs?!

Hope was growing noticeably thinner and it was terrifying. The only thing Bakugo could replace it with was more increased anger and newfound denial, and Aizawa had attempted talking to him twice now, with piss-poor results. Aizawa couldn't seem to find it in him to really discipline Bakugo, though it may have been warranted multiple times, as he likely seemed to think Bakugo was in the early stages of grief or some shit.

Bullshit. Fuck him. Deku was coming back, and anyone who even considered otherwise could go fuck themselves.

Bakugo had finally given in and texted both All Might and Tsukauchi, but their responses had been slow and apologetic and useless.

He wanted All Might to come back already. He found himself finally wanting to talk him. Needing to talk to him. He couldn't handle shouldering all the bullshit by himself anymore.

The only reprieve he found was at night when everyone was in bed and his schoolwork was completed. Bakugo would stay up late, researching—scouring the farthest reaches of the internet. He found himself taking extensive notes on any and everything. He mapped out every past nomu occurrence (hoping to triangulate a new potential origin point/villain hideout), he read any and all threads or articles mentioning any possible key words regarding the League members—'patch-work face,' 'compress quirk,' 'girl with blood penchant'—that might lead him to any reported sightings or hints at anything that might be useful or relevant to Deku's situation.

The research at least felt like he was doing something. He may not be getting anywhere yet, but it sure as hell beat sitting on his ass.

And Thursday...when Bakugo awoke from the same shit-filled nightmares to that same goddamn empty bedroom...something was...different...

* * *

Izuku was beginning to adjust to life with the villains—a fact that he was thoroughly wanting to stay in denial over admitting.

Because admitting that meant he had already been with them for too long and hadn't made any significant progress on figuring out a potential escape plan yet.

He further hated admitting that life with them, while still completely unnerving and disagreeable, wasn't actually as horrible as he was expecting.

The villains seemed to have come to tolerate and almost even not mind his presence quite quickly (with the exception of Shigaraki, who mostly ignored and avoided him).

He was allowed decent chunks of time out of the In-Between, mostly around mealtimes, but when Kurogiri was present in the apartment (which he was more often than not), he didn't seem averse to letting Izuku stay in the real world with them for a while. Kurogiri likely knew there was about as much chance of Izuku acting against the threats laid on him as there was of him finding a way out of the In-Between.

Izuku suspected the League was keeping his presence with them under wraps from even a lot of their own members. The only other villain that visited the apartment was a strange dude they called Twice, who had immediately and enthusiastically challenged Izuku to an arm wrestle upon recalling Izuku was the student who had defeated Muscular, and then a split second later declared he had no desire to ever engage Izuku in a physical contest of any sort, ever.

On Monday afternoon, Dabi brought Izuku a large bag of clothes ("They'll be too big on you, but here, kid."), and Toga showed up with a sack full of newly-purchased boxer shorts ("Here you go, Izuku! I tried to find All Might ones, but they didn't have any. Lame, huh?") and socks, which had Izuku turning red, but he thanked her anyway.

During Monday evening, Toga asked Izuku if he wanted to get strapped back in the chair and play 'Truth or Knives' with her, to which Izuku quickly replied with an alarmed "Uhhh...no thanks?" She settled instead for having him come play her playstation vita with her on the couch, and Izuku was surprised she was actually almost relatively normal about it.

Later that night, Kurogiri once again left Izuku in the In-Between around bedtime. And when Izuku noticed Kurogiri enter Shigaraki's bedroom a short time later, he couldn't help following. He still stood mostly outside the bedroom door, even though they couldn't see him in the In-Between, but he phased part-way through to listen more closely when needed.

It hadn't taken long for Kurogiri to realize his almost-mistake, but Izuku still caught a snippet of them mentioning something about what sounded like an inside source of sorts. And whether or not the 'source' had any info on what leads were currently being followed by those on the case. Which was certainly disconcerting information to hear. It left Izuku's insides knotted in dread and concern, wondering if this 'source' was a legitimate and willing traitor, and whether they were on the law enforcement side or with the school administration.

Kurogiri abruptly stopped their conversation when he realized Izuku might be listening, and entered the In-Between, warping Izuku outside his home in Musutafu and leaving him in the In-Between there.

Izuku ended up spending the night in his empty and dismal home. It looked like his mom had hastily packed a couple days ago and hadn't been back since. It was depressing as hell being there.

On Tuesday, Izuku spent mealtimes in the villains' apartment again. Once again, they didn't seem to think much of him being there. Dabi let him watch TV with him after dinner, and actually had some amusing comments to make on the 'shitty show' that was the only thing on at the moment. Toga again recruited Izuku to help her grind through a dungeon on her video game.

The false normality of it all was really aggravating to Izuku, though he was careful not to let them see much emotion. He hated feeling so trapped, and yet at the same time, so... _not_ trapped. There were several times he could have made a run for it when Kurogiri's back was turned. But they knew he wouldn't, and the fact that they knew just made him feel even more helpless and frustrated.

It had been three days since he had disappeared. Three days of everyone wondering about and worrying over and searching for him. It made him feel sick with guilt that he was essentially just 'hanging out' with a bunch of villains who weren't acting much like villains at all—who had, for the most part, been pretty welcoming to him.

There was just something so backwards to it all. He should just up and leave if they were all but letting him, right? Leave and run straight to All Might before the villains got a chance to retaliate. If he ran out of the apartment in the real world, he could maybe get a decent idea of where the hideout was located. And maybe, with the speed of One For All, he could get completely away before Kurogiri could catch him. And the heroes could perhaps find and apprehend the villains before they could carry out any of their retaliating threats. It was possible...

But would Izuku be willing to bet innocent lives on his shaky confidence of making a clean escape?

No. He wouldn't. It was just too risky. Kurogiri could potentially be on him before he'd be free of the stairs. And even though Izuku had become incredibly quick, Kurogiri didn't have to chase him—he could just warp ahead and cut off Izuku's flight no matter how many times he changed direction. He could try to lose the villains in the city, but again, it was just too risky.

So he stayed. And he continued behaving agreeably to the villains because that was just who he was and they hadn't given him any reason (apart from the threats) not to.

On Tuesday night, Izuku was preemptively warped home to spend the night in the In-Between once more. Once again, it was extremely dispiriting being there.

On Wednesday, Dabi brought some books by, claiming he'd noticed Izuku raid Kurogiri's bookshelf the day before and that he wouldn't find anything remotely entertaining there. Which was mosty true—Kurogiri's collection consisted almost entirely of science and history books, which maybe wouldn't have been Izuku's first subjects of choice, but he needed something to pass the time in the In-Between, and Kurogiri had given him permission to take as many books with him as he wanted.

Izuku was grateful to Dabi, and actually mildly surprised by his taste in books.

"Oh nice, Battle Royale?" Izuku was genuinely pleased to see that one in Dabi's bag. "I tried checking this out at the library when I was twelve, but my mom noticed. And yeah, she put the kibosh on that one quick. I've been meaning to read it since."

"Yeah, not really a top pick for kids," Dabi drawled. "It's good though, you'll like it, if you don't mind a little violence."

"Vonnegut, Kerouac, Salinger...you're a fan of American classics, I see." Izuku pulled one of the books from the bag. "I actually read this one for school last year," he said, righting Catcher in the Rye and idly flipping through its pages.

"Great book," Dabi said, sounding a fraction less bored.

"Yeah, it was well-written, and the whole stream of consciousness thing was pretty interesting," Izuku agreed, "but, I dunno...I kind of just wanted to take Holden by the shoulders and shake him throughout the whole book."

"Why? Holden Caulfield is one of the funniest little shits ever," Dabi replied.

"Well, yeah, he was pretty amusing, but man, he had every privilege and opportunity you could want in life, and he just...took it all for granted the entire time."

"No," Dabi countered. "He saw through the bullshit of society and decided to reject it."

"Hm," Izuku hummed, pondering as his eyes skimmed the back cover. "I guess that's another way of looking at it. Although, you know," he went on, "the novel was a perfect example of unreliable narrator. The entire book was essentially about Holden having an emotional breakdown over the loss of his brother, though he never admitted that to either himself or the reader. He was too lost in his grief, or too in denial of it or something, to realize what all his cynicism and rejection of society was really about."

"...Huh," Dabi replied. "You think so?" He paused a moment. "You should maybe read it again, kid. Holden was obviously just sick as hell of the phony education his rich-ass father kept trying to force on him, and the pointless career options that were practically already laid out for him, and he wanted a way out. He clearly just needed some other purpose to everything." He went on, "Sure, maybe he missed his brother, but there was a hell of a lot more to it than just that."

"Mm," Izuku hummed again, intrigued by the flame villain choosing to share some insight. "Yeah, I...wouldn't mind giving this one another read at all."

The exhange had been unexpected, but Izuku appreciated it. Although it didn't help in adding more to the already strange and unnerving situation—seeing examples of how these villains had human sides as well. He absolutely didn't want to start sympathizing with them in the slightest, but it completely went against his nature not to.

On Wednesday night, Kurogiri once again warped Izuku home and left him in the In-Between. It had become the routine.

It was too disheartening to stay, however. Izuku couldn't face his dark and desolate home another night. It made him dwell on and worry too much over his mom, and it wasn't helpful.

He decided to wander the city instead for a bit.

It was dark, and he was essentially a ghost, so there was no real point to it, but seeing that life was still continuing around him—businesses, people, transportation—they were all still functioning despite Izuku's life having drawn to a sudden standstill. There was something strangely sad, yet comforting about it.

It was when Izuku turned a corner, near downtown Musutafu, that he noticed something...different in the In-Between. At first it appeared to just be a normal dog—maybe a little on the large side for what most people chose to keep as pets in Japan, but nothing else seemed off about it at first, as it appeared to be minding it's own business across the street.

It was when the dog turned and seemed to immediately catch sight of Izuku that alarm bells went off in his mind. He was invisible. Nothing could see him in the In-Between. Right?

And then when the dog's gaze locked on him, and his ears seems to perk up in interest, it was then Izuku noticed the dog's eyes were red. Red and seemingly faintly glowing.

And when the dog immediately booked it into the street—phasing through two passing cars—Izuku realized he wasn't entirely alone in the In-Between.

The dog's blood-red eyes were fixed on him, and he didn't just seem interested, he seemed hungry. Ravenous, almost. And Izuku wasn't about to stick around too see if that was the case.

He booked it out of there as fast as he could, quickly leaving the creature in the dust as One For All bolstered his wary steps.

He kept running on and on through the city, never stopping once until he found himself in a familiar setting he wasn't entirely sure he had consciously decided to end up at. But he was there, and it was the most welcome sight, he almost could have bawled, if he hadn't been trying to stick so hard to his resolution of no more tears.

He slipped through the entrance gates to UA, unnoticed, unseen, and headed straight for 1-A's dorms. Straight for home.

* * *

 **So, I'm quite annoyed at how much time managed to slip by since my last update. This year is just way too busy and flying way too fast. And my kitchen is currently torn apart for remodeling, and my two year old has decided he's done with naps, and some days I feel like I'm just holding on lately, lol.**

 **So to anyone patiently following: Thank you for coming back, and thank you for your patience. And if more than a month slips by again before the next chapter, feel free to drop me a nudging note, since that really helps get my butt in gear with updating.**

 **I hope you guys aren't tiring of the angst yet. Because there's more to come.**

 **Oh, and that random, somewhat bonus scene with Dabi at the end was just a little something I couldn't resist throwing it. It was meant to pay a little homage to DrAphra's take on Dabi's character in Lines Crossed (if you haven't read her fic yet, you should most def check it out over on AO3). And using Holden Caulfield's character to draw those parallels was just too tempting. I love Dabi.**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading! I hope you're all well!**

 **UPDATE 1/8/20- If anyone's wondering, I have definitely not abandoned this story. Now that the holiday months are over, I'm back to writing, and chapter 12 will be up soon. Thanks so much for the nudges of encouragement! They truly help keep the motivation flowing, and I love hearing that this story hasn't been forgotten.**


	12. The Breakdown of Katsuki Bakugo

Izuku never thought anything could feel so entirely relieving and yet strangely sad as stepping up to the entrance of Height's Alliance 1-A dormitory felt.

The massive _1-A_ lettering was the most inviting beacon Izuku could recall seeing. And the underlying _Alliance_ might as well have spelled out 'home' instead. Even the red tint tainting the glowing sidewalk lamps couldn't detract from the sight.

Izuku was back where he belonged. Home.

Well, not entirely back, Izuku admitted, the hint of sadness lingering as he phased through the large double doors. He was still essentially a ghost, invisible and intangible to all his surroundings—trapped and isolated in the peculiar inter-plane of Kurogiri's In-Between.

But he was still there. Back on familiar and loved ground. Back with his friends. It hadn't quite been a week since his disappearance, but it might as well have been a year for how long it felt. And man, he'd missed everyone. He hadn't been certain if he'd ever see them again, and even if they wouldn't be aware of his presence, just being among them again would be life-giving.

The common area was the most welcome sight, Izuku's breath almost caught upon seeing it. The lighting was subtle, illuminated only by the dimmed hall and kitchen accent lights, and once again, the faint red gleam of the In-Between felt noticeably less eerie. He paused a moment, taking in the couch pillows haphazardly lying about, the untucked chairs at the tables. The space looked lived-in and normal, and something about it was oddly reassuring to Izuku.

He made for the stairs, stepping lightly in the quiet of the late hour, despite knowing he couldn't be heard.

He rounded the second floor and stepped out into the hall. It was as minimally lit as the common area, but he could still make out the name plate next to his door. His name. His room. His home.

He reached for the doorknob but caught himself half-way. There was no need to try it, he wouldn't even be able to grasp it. He phased through the door and entered his dorm room.

It was dark. Though the curtains weren't fully closed—a thick strip of moonlight slipped through the gap and spanned the length of the floor. Izuku had a fleeting wish he could flip the light on. He would have loved to see his room as he'd left it, all decked out in his All Might paraphernalia. It would have been a comforting sight.

He had barely made it past the threshold when he suddenly paused. It wasn't as dead-silent in there as he was expecting. The sound of deep and steady breathing met him immediately, almost startling him, and he squinted through the dark, eyes falling on the extra bed still situated opposite his.

The extra bed that was currently occupied. A still form, half-in, half out of the covers stretched across its surface.

Kacchan.

What the—? What was Kacchan still doing here? Why hadn't he gone back to his own room yet? Surely Aizawa hadn't disallowed him to return to his own room since Izuku had been—well, since Izuku wasn't able to continue their joint punishment at the moment. Aizawa could be pretty tough at times, but he wouldn't have been callous like that. Not in the wake of another of his students going missing.

But why on earth else would Kacchan have stayed in Izuku's room? It...didn't really make sense. Hadn't Kacchan been dying to move back to his own dorm?

Surprise aside, Izuku couldn't help feeling a flood of...gratitude? Relief? It was difficult to label, but Izuku found himself feeling beyond glad that Kacchan was there—even asleep and unaware of Izuku's presence as he was. Just having someone there, being back with his friend—yes, Izuku realized, Kacchan couldn't have ever been considered more of a friend than at that moment. After spending close to a week under threat and surrounded by villains, Izuku had the overwhelming urge to rush to Kacchan and half bounce, half shake him awake, and—before he could regain his senses and stop himself—pull that spiky, blond head against him in what might even qualify as a hug. He wouldn't even care if Kacchan blew him away on the spot; it wouldn't matter if he couldn't hold back his explosive anger. Because Izuku wasn't alone anymore. Kacchan was there. And who knew, maybe Kacchan might actually be somewhat relieved enough about seeing Izuku alive, he'd hold off on instantly killing him?

As it was, though, Izuku was still a ghost. He couldn't wake Kacchan, couldn't let him know he was there and alive and well, and it...well, it really sucked.

And without being able to make Kacchan aware of his presence, would it be creepy of Izuku to hang around their room? Where else could he go though? All the other dorm rooms he'd been in were also currently occupied by his classmates, and the empty ones would be blacked out, as he'd never seen them outside of the In-Between. He could go sleep down in the common area, but something about spending the night in that big, normally-bustling room alone seemed...well, lonely. And a little sad.

He decided it didn't matter if he stayed. Kacchan would be up and about his routine early, and Kurogiri would be around to collect Izuku sometime in the morning anyway.

Izuku sighed, his eyes still watching the dark outline of Kacchan's even breathing.

At least he was back at school. At least he wasn't _as_ alone as he'd become used to. Anything was better than spending the night on the floor of his mom's empty house, in the dark and by himself.

Izuku turned for his bed, suddenly realizing how tired he was. He sat down on the edge...and phased through to the floor. Oh, right. Duh.

No, you know what? This was stupid. Izuku wasn't going to spend another night on the floor. He was sick of it, and sick of his back constantly aching because of it.

He drew to his feet, facing the bed.

Why could he walk up stairs just fine? Why didn't the floor pose any problem when it came to phasing? Why wasn't he just falling through the ground all the way to the center of the damn planet? Izuku was sick of the In-Between's nonsensical physics.

He recalled Kurogiri's words from several days before.

 _"There's a significant and curious amount of power of perception at play in the In-Between..."_

What had he meant by that? Could a person somewhat alter their interaction with the world of the In-Between according to their own perception of it? Hmm...that thought kind of seemed to go in line with the way an individual could only view what they'd seen in-person in the real world. It was so strange. It didn't make sense.

But regardless, Izuku wasn't going to just put up with his helpless ghost situation for much longer. It was annoying and frustrating, and he was ready to try whatever he could to counter it.

He shut his eyes. He was just going to step up. Like one simple step on a flight of stairs. Same thing. No difference whatsoev—

Izuku opened his eyes and found himself standing on his bed. Actually standing on it—he hadn't phased through it!

"Ha! No way...!" Izuku exclaimed excitedly. It was louder than a whisper, but of course Kacchan wouldn't have heard him and didn't stir.

Carefully, Izuku lowered himself down to his seat. Just like he'd done countless times when he sat on the floor in the In-Between. No different. Easy.

He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, and he couldn't keep the grin from his face.

Once again, taking his time, Izuku slowly eased himself down on his side. Against his pillow. Ahhh. He hadn't slept on a pillow in ages. It felt like he was contacting it, but not fully; it was a strange feeling. But it felt so good at the same time.

Izuku had missed his bed, he'd missed his room. He'd missed the boisterous study sessions gathered around the couches downstairs, and the crowded mealtimes filled with encouraging talk of goals and latest achievements with his like-minded, enthusiastic peers. He'd wondered countless times, and shed more than a couple tears, questioning if he'd ever actually be back there.

"Kacchan?" he spoke to the quiet.

No answer.

"I'm gonna figure this out. I'm gonna find a way out of this."

* * *

It was the indent in Deku's pillow.

That was the difference that immediately caught Bakugo's eye upon drawing to the edge of his bed Thursday morning.

The covers were slightly wrinkled as well.

...

...What the...hell...?

Bakugo rose to his feet, slowly closing the gap between the beds in two drawn out steps.

The pillow was indented, there was no doubt of it. It had been smooth and domed the day before, Bakugo was certain of it. Pretty certain. He'd been trying to avoid looking at Deku's shitty, untouched bed for the last several days, but despite his ever-increasing anger at seeing it, he couldn't help his gaze falling on it a thousand goddamn times everyday.

Had the bed been messed with the previous night? Had he not noticed? How had he not noticed? And who the fuck had snuck into Deku's room yesterday and why? And what, had they randomly decided to lie down on his effing bed? What the hell?

Bakugo fumed. His base anger level wavered between a fluctuating 8 and 8.5 lately, but the thought of someone effing with Deku's shit while he was gone was threatening to boost that base level up to a solid, constant 9.

His insides felt permanently heated. From waking to sundown. His pulse wouldn't slow, his breaths were always half as deep and twice as fast, and he couldn't do anything to help it. He was sick of goddamn everyone and everything, and if he didn't find an outlet for his anger soon, he didn't know if he'd be able to hold it back any longer. He barely had half a hold on it as it was.

He grabbed for the pillow, fluffing the shit out of it before flinging it back in place. He roughly grasped the edge of Deku's goddamn All Might bedspread (ignoring his gut pinching tighter at inadvertently being reminded of his and the stupid nerd's joint admiration of the hero since childhood) and tugged it straight, trying his hardest not to singe it at the same time.

Whatever asshole thought they could just waltz into Deku's room and mess with his shit just because he wasn't around for a little while... He'd make sure they got what was effing coming to them. He'd give them a piece of his mind. He'd kill that effer if he ever found out who it was. It would be the perfect outlet for all the shit threatening to escape him. Goddammit!

And in the meantime, it was going to be another same-old, shitty-ass day. Another day without news. Another day without leads. Another day without shitty Deku.

Bakugo swallowed around whatever had decided to stifle his windpipe just then.

It was getting more difficult. To keep the fear buried by anger. To keep the denial in place. To stay fucking hopeful and goddamn _positive_ like Aizawa had advised.

Bakugo didn't even know how to do either of those things in the first place. Why the hell would he ever need lame-ass hope or positivity when all he had to do was will something to go his way in life and it would? He knew how to work hard and get shit done. And he knew how to win. In any situation, he could always find a way to win.

Why was this so damn infuriating, then? Why the hell was he even recalling Aizawa's useless, shitty advice of not losing hope? It was so freaking stupid. It really was.

In the back of his mind, however, Bakugo knew exactly why the situation was so goddamn frustrating. It was the lack of control. Bakugo hated not being in control. He had never before been in a situation that could actually have a significant impact on his life and been without the means of swaying the outcome. It was so foreign to him. And it was...just so goddamn maddening.

He had finally begun to admit to himself that Deku's absence did in fact have an impact on him. That it was a problem for him. Which, yeah, whatever, maybe he always knew that from the start. But knowing something and admitting it to yourself were two very different things. And denial was easy. It was a lot more comfortable to immerse yourself in denial than to admit you might actually need to turn to something as stupid and shitty and intangible as fucking _hope_.

Bakugo wouldn't be able to get a handle on things until Deku was found. He wouldn't be able to feel normal again. Nothing would ever feel normal again. And without normalcy returning, and Bakugo's goddamn base anger level reverting to its usual 7, there wouldn't be any worthwhile or significant advancements in his heroing education or endeavors.

And Bakugo was going to be effing Number One. Nothing was going to stop him. Least of all shitty Deku's shitty absence throwing him for a loop and jacking up not only his focus and priorities but his goddamn shitty-ass emotional state as well.

And when the fuck had Bakugo even acquired an 'emotional state?!' Holy shit, it was the most laughable, girly-ass shit ever!

So why the fuck couldn't he get it together?

His insides should have reached their capacity for feeling all this shit—the anger, worry, denial, suppressed fear, and yeah, more anger—ages ago. How was it all still building?! How much longer could he continue to keep feeling shittier? Why had all this shit become so dependent on Deku's state?

Why hadn't they carried out an effing rescue already? Where the hell _was_ he?!

Bakugo didn't have any answers. No one had any goddamn answers. And the only appropriate response to all the unanswered questions was only more added fury.

And when Bakugo arrived in class that morning to find his and Deku's desks had been separated and aligned with their row once more, Bakugo stopped in his tracks.

He blinked once at the sight, breath halting as he tried to swallow around his constricted throat once more.

He was at the desks in a fraction of a second, gripping his hard and practically jarring the shit out of it as he threw it back into place. Next to Deku's.

Bakugo hadn't noticed Aizawa already at the front of the class, watching him. And he wished he hadn't noticed Aizawa's brow lift so subtly at Bakugo's unspoken outburst. There was a hint of surprise and pity behind the slight gesture and it really pissed Bakugo off. He wished he hadn't seen it.

Screw Aizawa.

"If you think Deku's wussing out of your shitty-ass punishment this easily, you're dead wrong, Aizawa!"

The concern behind Aizawa's creased brow deepened a measure and it only made Bakugo seethe further.

"Got that?! He's not getting off the fucking hook so easily, so don't even think about letting him!" He could feel every eye on him, wide and nervous, but he didn't care.

Aizawa only watched him a long moment before exhaling quietly. "Please take your seat, Bakugo." He said it fairly softly and without anger, and again, it somehow managed to piss Bakugo off even more.

Goddammit, why was Bakugo the only one who was so angry about all this bullshit? Why was everyone else okay with being all weepy and defeated and useless? Why the hell couldn't they feel the same shit Bakugo was being consumed by? Why wasn't it making them as furious?!

"Don't try to be all subtle about attempting to make this the 'new normal' or whatever shit this is." Bakugo spat out heatedly, suddenly feeling such an urge to provoke anyone and everyone around him. "Don't think he isn't coming back, Aizawa," he glared, chest heaving. "And don't any of you stupid shitstains think otherwise, either!" He half-turned to address the extras. "You goddamn, worthless, weak pieces of shit—sitting there crying your useless asses off—pretending to care about Deku, when it's obvious as fuck you don't give a shit. If you did, you wouldn't be so okay with sitting on your asses, doing nothing but fucking grieving or whatever shit you're doing. Deku's coming back, you fucktards!"

"Bakugo!" There was definitely anger behind Aizawa's voice now, and Bakugo felt a hint of triumph at his successful provocation. He wanted everyone to feel as shitty and angry as he did, but he would find satisfaction behind just Aizawa for now. "Either take your seat and calm down, or you can return to the dorms to cool off for the remainder of the morning."

Bakugo glowered at him, an almost smug smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

"Don't make the callous and unfair mistake of assuming you're the only one struggling right now—"

Aizawa's tone had evened out again and Bakugo's sneer slackened. He wanted a shouting match, dammit! Not more of Aizawa's shitty-ass nonsense, assuming he could read shit about him. Where the hell did he even get off with those backwards, bullshit assumptions anyway? Fuck him!

"Everyone's trying their best to hang in there while the search for Midoriya continues, and as one of the top three hero students in our class, you need to do the same." Aizawa paused briefly to draw a weary breath. His eyes pulled away to address the rest of the class, but Bakugo knew whatever followed was still mostly aimed at him. "No one told you this career path would be easy—that it wouldn't often intersect the paths of villains, or that it wouldn't at times be laden with fear and pain and hardship. You need to find the resolve to stay strong despite your feelings. Even when they threaten to overwhelm you. It's one of the most vital skills you can develop as a hero. Keeping a level head when the world is falling apart around you is one of the most defining attributes of a hero, and you would do well to work on acquiring it."

Bakugo's jaw was clenching so tight he could practically hear his teeth groan.

Aizawa continued, sounding tired, apologetic and beat. And sad. "I don't want this to sound like I'm turning Midoriya's situation into a lesson of any sort, because God knows I would rather not. But regardless, valiance isn't something you pick up through the curriculum alone here at UA. It's something you obtain through experience. Through developing bonds, and caring for something bigger than yourself. Facing fears, and enduring pain, and teetering on the brink of being overwhelmed—of feeling completely spent, and yet still fighting on. Finding strength when there's none left. Trusting in hope when despair threatens to claim you..." Aizawa paused, gathering another breath. "That's what it means to have courage. To be valiant. Indomitable... It's a kind of strength that can carry you through any situation as a hero."

Aizawa's eyes settled on Bakugo once more, and Bakugo noticed the raging fire inside him had been doused a measure.

Damn Aizawa. Bakugo hated when he did that. When he got all inspirational and shit. Why was the bastard actually good at that sometimes?

The class had fallen into that same thick silence that had permeated the atmosphere all week. That same old painful, anxious, weary silence.

"Mister Aizawa wasn't the one who moved the desks..." Kirishima's tentative voice suddenly sounded from two rows over. "It was—it was me..."

Bakugo's narrowed eyes sought the redhead, pupils contracting. His gave Shitty Hair a look that clearly told him to continue.

"It's just—I thought it might be a little easier for you...not having to see Midoriya's empty desk next to you all day..."

Bakugo just stared at him, his inner flames immediately flaring to life once more.

Kirishima's voice was cautious, and rightly so. "I mean—not just you, man, but all of us. I mean—It...it really sucks for all of us, you know?"

Bakugo's nostrils flared as he drew a sharp breath. "Why don't you learn to mind your own goddamn business, Shitty Hair?" he growled. "And don't think just because Deku isn't here you can go around touching and messing with his shit!" Bakugo was still kind of addressing Kirishima, but he meant it more for the other shitty extras—in particular, whichever bastard had snuck into Deku's room.

"S-sorry, man," Kirishima responded uneasily. "I didn't think it would make you mad—I mean, I wasn't trying to—"

"Just shut up and drop it," Bakugo barked, his voice a little more scathing than he meant for it to be. He wasn't in the right place to remind himself Kirishima usually meant well. He didn't know if he'd ever be back in that 'right place.'

He sat down heavily in his seat, ignoring all the shitty, alarmed eyes glued to him. He couldn't calm his pounding pulse, he couldn't cool the burning in his chest. Couldn't unclench his rigid jaw.

The only thing he could do was continue trying to stay afloat amidst the endless bullshit surrounding him.

* * *

Izuku was awoken by Kurogiri mid morning and escorted out of the In-Between and back to the real world.

He was pretty certain Kurogiri couldn't see where he'd spent the night, since the villain had mentioned unvisited places were blacked out in the In-Between to him as well, and Kurogiri hadn't bothered asking or seemed the least bit concerned.

Izuku stepped through the gates and back into the villains' apartment, the enticing smell of breakfast immediately making his mouth water.

There was a meal and place setting at the counter. No one else appeared to be around.

"Is this for me?" Izuku asked, glancing back to the shadow villain following behind.

"It is," Kurogiri affirmed, stepping behind the counter to his usual spot and running the sink on the dishes.

"It smells great. Thanks." Izuku took a seat and quickly went to work on the dish. He was so hungry.

Kurogiri silently continued wiping down dishes.

Half-way through his plate, Izuku decided to pause a moment. He wiped his mouth, glancing up at the quiet villain. "Kurogiri?" he began a little hesitantly. "Last night I...encountered something in the In-Between..."

Kurogiri finished drying a bowl and set it aside, turning his attention to Izuku.

"It was...I dunno, I think it was a dog. I saw it across the street and didn't initially realize it was in the In-Between with me until it turned and locked eyes with me."

Kurogiri picked up another wet dish, still appearing to be listening.

"It came after me once it saw me watching it, and when it got closer...it looked like it had red and kinda glowy eyes..." Izuku set his napkin down, straightening. "Do you know what that might have been?"

Kurogiri set the dish down and cleared his throat. "It's nothing to be too concerned about," he replied in his usual matter-of-fact tone. "It was merely one of the lost shadows wandering the In-Between. They may appear frightening, but they can't harm you."

That answer was a little reassuring, but at the same time, it only made Izuku more curious. "...Lost shadows? What are they?"

"They're rather rare to encounter, but essentially, they're creatures that accidentally wandered into the In-Between at one point or other and became lost and died there. Their spirits are trapped and continue to wander it, forever lost and intangible, unable to move on to where spirits normally move on to."

Izuku blinked at Kurogiri. "...So...they're ghosts?"

"If you will, yes," Kurogiri responded, running the sink again a moment. "Your ability to see them hinges, again, on perception being different in the In-Between."

"That's...kind of...sad," Izuku said, distracted, as his thoughts suddenly raced. Another question was immediately tugging at his mind, but he didn't want to voice it. He didn't want Kurogiri to know what he was suddenly desperately wondering: Did that mean there other ways in and out of the In-Between besides Kurogiri's gates? Were there others who had access to the strange inter-plane? Could there possibly be alternative entry/exit points hidden throughout the real world?!

Izuku couldn't help his pulse picking up at the hope behind the thought. He tried his best to hide it, inconspicuously poking at his food.

Kurogiri wiped down the counter and changed the subject. "Tomura and I have matters to attend to, so I apologize if you find most your time spent in the In-Between over the next few days."

Izuku didn't respond around his mouthful of food. That was fine, no problem. It was preferable, in fact. It meant the potential for more time spent back at school. And Izuku was more than eager to return.

"Finish eating and wash up," Kurogiri advised, hanging up the towel and stepping out of the kitchen.

Izuku didn't waste time in cleaning his dishes and heading for the shower. He was anxious to get back to the In-Between. Anxious to make his way back to school. He had a lot to think about. A lot to mull over.

The possibility that an eventual rescue operation might be avoided—that escaping the villains could possibly be achieved by simply finding another way out of the In-Between—was too appealing. He needed a way to look into it, to research it as thoroughly as possible. Were there other quirks that accessed the In-Between? Were there hidden gates lurking about, just waiting to be stumbled upon? Was there actually a potential scenario of Izuku returning home without risking anyone else's safety?

It was such an appealing and encouraging thought. And yeah, maybe Izuku was merely grasping at straws, but at least he finally had a starting point. At least there might be the beginnings of a glimmer of hope. Now all he needed was a way to get more information.

* * *

Izuku was returned to the In-Between shortly after noon. He was left in the apartment, alone, with only his (Kurogiri's and Dabi's) books to occupy him.

He toyed with the idea of leaving the apartment and using One For All to book it to the nearest visible part of the city and then make his way back to school from there. But he realized Kurogiri would likely be around soon after to retrieve him for dinner. And since he was certain he'd be heading back to school that evening, he wasn't sure if it made sense to make the journey twice in a row only a few hours apart. It might be a little exhausting.

He decided to wait until Kurogiri warped him home to spend the night, as had become the routine. Getting to school would be a lot quicker and easier starting from home.

And fortunately, after the most painstakingly boring afternoon and evening spent alone, Kurogiri returned and announced he'd be leaving Izuku in the In-Between for the night shortly after dinner, as he and Shigaraki had further obligations that evening. Izuku vaguely wondered what the villains might be up to, but he didn't give it too much concern, as eager as he was to return to school.

Getting back to school was indeed easier with his home serving as the starting point. He rode a portion of the trek on a bus (which he had been pleased to find he could step up in, just like his bed) and then One For All'd the remainder.

He was a little winded when he arrived back at the dorms, but it was the best kind of winded. He wondered if anything would ever bring him as much relief and joy as seeing the building's giant 1-A sign did.

Ah! And the common area wasn't dark and empty this time! There was Mineta and Kaminari in front of the tv! And Iida and Todoroki, sitting across from one another at a study table! And Shoji and Ojiro were also there studying. And Sato was at his usual spot behind the kitchen counter, apparently practicing some type of dessert recipe, because it smelled so good in there.

Izuku was surprised to glimpse a full array of untouched cookies covering the counter. They usually disappeared faster than Sato could scoop them off the sheet.

He slowly crossed the entry hall, finding further surprise at how...solemn the normally lively space seemed.

No one was talking. Mineta and Kaminari were silently buried in their phones while a practically muted show played unnoticed on the tv in front of them. Iida and Todoroki stared stony-faced at the textbooks in front of them, their eyes bleak and shoulders tense.

The atmosphere of the formerly inviting space was thick with grief, anxiety and dread. It was palpable, even with only a handful of the class currently present.

And as much as Izuku had been looking forward to being there, he now suddenly wished he could be anywhere else. This wasn't home. This foreign, depressing, funeral home of a setting wasn't the common area of Class 1-A. What the heck?

The guilt was quick to spread entirely through Izuku, and he hated it. He hated that this thick, impenetrable sadness centered on him—hated that everyone had been in the dark, worrying, even _grieving_ over him for the better part of a week now, with no answers, no leads, nothing.

God, it sucked.

He made his way slowly to his closest friends situated at the table. He stepped right up to them, knowing they couldn't see him, wouldn't even know he was there, but wishing so much that they could.

"Hey..." Izuku said, trying his best to brush over how much their downcast faces pained him to see. "You guys seem...a little... Ah, God," Izuku cut off, drawing a sharp breath, "You guys don't need to be so worried, all right? Iida? Todoroki? Look, I'm fine—I'm—I'm right here. I'm gonna get out of this and get back to school just as soon as I can... Just, please—" Izuku exhaled, frustrated. "Just...don't let this whole thing get to you so much, okay? I'm all right and I'll be coming back, I—I promise."

The two merely continued to work opposite each other in complete silence, their stony gazes still fixed on their books. Todoroki actually glanced up for a short moment to study Iida briefly, perhaps trying to gauge how his exhaustion level compared to his own, but he didn't say anything, just returned to his seemingly distracted studies.

Ugh, Izuku couldn't take it. He turned, a heavy pit solidly taking up the majority of his stomach, and made for the stairs. A sleeping Kacchan would be more preferable company to this. Not that he blamed them in anyway... He just felt too bad to stay.

Surprisingly, however, as Izuku rounded the second floor and entered his bedroom, he found Kacchan still awake and up—seated at his desk with his laptop open in front of him.

Izuku had kind of expected Kacchan to get back to his eight-thirty bedtime now that he had the room to himself. He was surprised to find Kacchan still working on his homework at close to nine o'clock.

He approached him a little hesitantly. "Hey... I...know you can't hear me...but, if it's all right with you, I'm just gonna hang out here for the night? Since, you know, this is technically still my room, too..."

Nothing. Of course.

"What are you working on?" Izuku asked, approaching Kaccan's chair and leaning down to peer over his shoulder. He almost snickered just then, realizing how much such an intrusive move would normally infuriate Kacchan. He could just picture Kacchan immediately snapping his laptop lid shut and turning to shout _What the hell are you creeping over my shoulder for, asshole?! You know I can't stand that shit—Back the hell off!_

The thought made the small grin fade from Izuku's face and the pit in his stomach suddenly feel twice as heavy. He missed Kacchan. He missed his empty threats and constant outbursts. They had come to be quite predictable and almost always at least a little amusing—at least when they were on the lower end of the harshness scale. Izuku had become more than used to them now. And he'd grown mostly entertained by them as well. He wished Kacchan would just turn around and argue with him.

Even though he was literally right in front of Izuku, he still felt a world away...

"Crap," Izuku said, eyeing the word document Kacchan was typing away at. The word count in the corner displayed 3,789. And counting. "Another essay already? Ah, the catch-up work I'm going to be looking at is gonna be rough, not gonna lie..."

Kacchan didn't blink and his fingers didn't falter. He just continued steadily typing away, his brow furrowed and his teeth grinding.

Izuku sighed. Being back at school wasn't...quite as great as he was expecting. It was almost just as painful as being trapped in the villains' hideout, but for different reasons. He...kind of should have realized it would be, but he'd been too excited at the prospect of just being back with everyone again. ...Well, somewhat 'back with' them. They still had no way of knowing. Hence, the painful aspect of it all.

Izuku decided there wasn't much else for it but to continue lurking over Kacchan's shoulder and at least try to get a snippet of catching-up in. He could at least get a feel for what subject they were currently covering in class. And Kacchan was smart. It was actually quite impressive reading his writing—it was surprisingly articulate and well-worded.

"Nice, Kacchan, way to drive your point at the end there," Izuku said aloud, even though he knew he was talking to himself. "There's a couple swear words in that paragraph above that you forgot to delete though. Might wanna catch those." He'd noticed Kacchan liked to pepper his essay with curse words every so often throughout the writing process, but he was pretty quick to mash the backspace on them. And honestly, it kind of made Izuku snort every time. It was just such classic Kacchan.

"Well, you're probably about done for the night, but I don't suppose you might be up for trying anything seance-y with me before turning in?" Izuku asked half hopeful, half joking. "You're definitely not the type to keep a Ouija Board around, or even know what one is," Izuku muttered, "but maybe we could borrow one from Tokoyami? Guaranteed he has at least one he wouldn't mind lending us. Probably more—the dude's room is practically a smaller version of Hot Topic—he probably even has themed ones. Should we see if he has an All Might one we can borrow? ...No? Maybe?"

Kacchan only saved the document on his computer and minimized the program. Surprisingly, he didn't close the laptop though, despite it being well past nine-thirty now. Surely Kacchan hadn't left more homework for this 'late.'

Kacchan pushed back his chair and stood, reaching around behind his desk to grab something. He pulled it out—a poster of some sort, it looked like—and pressed it against the wall, pinning it in place.

It was a map of Tokyo and its surrounding cities. With various shades of ink jotted across it in broad circles, connecting lines and scrawled notes.

Huh, that was a little odd. Izuku couldn't think of any of their subjects that geography would be particularly relevant in, last he could recall.

He noticed a key scribbled at the bottom of the map. Red equaled 'past nomu incidences.' Blue equaled 'current suspected villain sightings.' Yellow equaled 'past confirmed villain sightings.' Green equaled...'suspected Deku sightings...'

Izuku froze. His breath lodged half-way out his throat. His stomach dropped almost faster than his eyes could widen.

...Kacchan was... Was he really...?

Kacchan was back in his seat, grabbing a notebook from his drawer and pulling up the web browser. Izuku's disbelieving eyes took in the various tabs left open—about a million different news sites and several gossip forums. Stock still, Izuku watched as Kacchan clicked through them, refreshing each page and entering various key words into the search bars. 'Midoriya,' 'Missing UA student,' 'Shigaraki,' 'League of Villains,' 'Blue flames,' 'Copy villain,' 'Midoriya tips,' 'Midoriya suspected sighting,' 'League of villains sightings.' There was no end to the searches and the scrolling. Kacchan flipped back and forth through his notebook, crossing out notes and adding a few more with furious scribbles.

Izuku wasn't sure if his mouth had dropped open at some point during his paralyzed observing. He could hardly believe it. Kacchan was...researching his missing case... Extensively. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it happen right before him.

Kacchan continued scrolling, reading, searching, scribbling. He glanced up at the map a few times, leaning across his desk to mark a new point or cross out an old one.

And Izuku continued to stand there, silently floundering in a complication of emotions: shock, guilt, gratitude, guilt, disbelief...and...more guilt.

He could not believe Kacchan was actually worried about him enough to be putting off sleep and attempting to somewhat take matters into his own hands. Like, what..? Was the In-Between playing tricks on him? Was that really what his eyes were seeing?

It was...so unexpected and startling, to say the very least.

And...man, it made his insides ache in a really uncomfortable way. It made him feel horrible. Kacchan was clearly scared...and, God forbid, even blaming himself a small measure for the whole thing? Izuku hoped to God he wasn't, but Kacchan's obsessive behavior kind of pointed somewhat to that conclusion.

Oh man, what a sucky situation he'd put his friend in. God, it felt awful.

Izuku took in Kacchan's bleary, strained eyes. The dark circles underneath them. The tight-set lines of his jawline and shoulders. Ugh, this was not Normal Kacchan. Izuku had caused some serious and irrefutable stress to his friend. And he really couldn't stand seeing it.

Izuku hadn't really noticed when he'd taken a seat near his bed, staring forlornly at the floor while Kacchan continued frantically working away. It felt like hours later (though Izuku wasn't certain if it was actually longer or less than that) when Kacchan suddenly slammed his notebook shut and chucked his pen against the wall in the same motion. Izuku vaguely noticed a couple sparks follow in its wake. He leaned against his chair, throwing his head back in frustration and rubbing at his bloodshot eyes.

"Aaarrgh! Dammit!"

Izuku jumped at Kacchan's voice, startled eyes widening further at the unexpected outburst.

"This is _bull_ shit..." Kacchan muttered with what sounded like equal parts fury and exhaustion. He brought a hand up, running it through his hair and gripping hard at the roots.

"Kacchan..."

Kacchan leaned forward again, releasing his tight grip on his hair with an angry sigh. He reopened the notebook, grabbing another nearby pen and scratching briefly at the page.

"Please stop," Izuku pleaded, the guilt still firmly gnawing away at his stomach. "You need to get to bed, you have class in the morning." He ran an exasperated hand through his tousled hair. "And, really...I don't think you have any idea how—how completely crappy this is making me feel..."

Kacchan just continued clicking through several of the same sites he'd already been over multiple times.

"Really—I'm..." Izuku began, wishing he had something useful to say, and wishing even more that Kacchan could actually hear it. "Well, apart from being sorrier than ever, I'm—I'm right here... You...You don't have to do all of this—this research or whatever, because I'm gonna be the one who finds a way out of this, okay? Don't—Just...please stop worrying...All right?"

God, he couldn't handle all the worrying over him. It was the worst crap he'd ever felt in his life. He'd caused this. He was the reason everyone was so miserable and distracted. It was his fault everyone was drowning in the dumps with no way of climbing out. Ugh, dammit...

And sure, maybe part of him felt incredibly touched that Kacchan had actually spent a considerable amount of time and effort on Izuku's case. But the look in Kacchan's eyes...the desperation behind his actions...it was all just so Not Kacchan and it wasn't right—none of his friends should ever be in such distress (and especially not because of him!), and Izuku couldn't handle it.

Izuku dropped his head between his knees and wrung his hair, unable to watch Kacchan any longer.

He was relieved when Kacchan finally closed his laptop at quarter to midnight. He stood, flipping his lamp off none too gently and turned for the bathroom.

Izuku stood stiffly, stretching his back before turning to face his bed. He could do this again. All he had to do was close his eyes and step up. Easy. Just like stairs.

He found himself on his bed again. And it was a little easier taking his time to sit and lie down if he kept thinking of it as the floor. He'd have to start experimenting more with that soon. If there was a way to trick his own perception of what was solid enough to stand on in the In-Between, surely he could tinker with it more when it came to touching anything?

He wasn't sure. But he was tired. Tired and extremely remorseful. He was grateful he felt sleep claiming him quicker than expected.

* * *

Bakugo woke on Friday morning stiff and cramped from shitty and inadequate sleep. That was to be expected now though. After nearly a week of shit sleep, he was starting to get used to the constant feeling of functioning at only eighty percent.

Eighty percent was enough though. It had to be for now. Until the whole shitshow of Deku's absence was finally resolved. Which it had to be any day now. It _had_ to be. How much longer could the fuckers possibly need to find him?

If there wasn't news by tomorrow, Bakugo was going to take every piece of shitty information he'd compiled over the last several days straight to Tsukauchi's office, slam it down on his shitty desk, and demand that he do his effing job already.

He sat up, reaching for his stupid phone, which he just knew wasn't going to provide anything new or useful once agai—

Something immediately caught Bakugo's eye. He blinked, wondering if his shitty sleep was messing with his eyesight.

There was an indent. In Deku's pillow. Again.

And the blankets were slightly rumpled. Again.

...

Un-fucking-believable.

He stomped to the bed, grabbing the pillow by the case's edge and flinging it smooth. He straightened the goddamn All Might blanket, not holding back on singeing it this time.

He could not believe one of the effing extras was still being such a disrespectful fuck by messing with Deku's shit. Even after that very clear warning he'd issued in class yesterday. He'd kill that fucker. He'd find out who it was and he'd kill them. What the hell were they getting at anyway? Stupid fucktard.

Class was the same intolerable shit it had been all week. Bakugo found it difficult to concentrate around his constant, all-consuming seething, and he found it even harder to keep said seething from getting the best of him every two seconds. He was incessantly and aggressively blowing up at anyone who came too close or accidentally made eye contact. He was excused from the afternoon's 'heroes vs. villains in uneven and unstable terrain' exercise/skirmish, and he didn't even give a shit.

It was the same old shit. The same old goddamn, infuriating shit. Bakugo didn't know if he could take one more day of it without accidentally (or intentionally) killing someone.

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur. A fuming, exhaustive blur. He ate some shit at one point. He did his shitty homework. Shitty Hair had the nerve to invite him to some god-awful, what, get-together that evening? Meeting? He didn't know what the stupid extras called it, but apparently they were having another one of their stupid-ass pow-wows about Deku's situation that night. Bakugo hoped Kirishima hadn't seriously been expecting a reply.

He ignored his phone and stayed holed up in his room. Trying his hardest to think about anything other than the fact that they were nearing a week since Deku's disappearance.

A full goddamn week.

He couldn't dwell on it. It made him too angry. And the anger was steadily being swallowed up more and more by fear. A week was serious. A week was a goddamn, long-ass time. A week was something you never, ever wanted to approach when you didn't know shit about the whereabouts of someone you were close to.

Someone you were close to...?

Goddammit, when the hell had Deku become 'someone close?' Bakugo wasn't close to anyone. He didn't need to be. No one else could keep up with him, and peers and tag-alongs only slowed you down and made you feel shitty for being better than them (although he supposed Kirishima had kind of somehow weaseled his way into a relatively close position over the last few months. But the dude rarely whined about being inferior, and he had guts most of the time, and Bakugo was surprised to find he didn't mind letting him stay.).

But Deku? He'd never been 'close,' he'd just always been 'there.' A constant presence of never-ending enthusiasm and goddamn, unfailing over-eagerness.

Sure, he'd never been more than a few blocks away since they were small. Bakugo supposed that qualified as 'close.' But since Deku had accidentally confided in him about One For All, and since Bakugo had accidentally confided in Deku about failing All Might... And since they sparred and got in trouble and were forced to live together, spending weeks within literal arms' reach of each other... Had they unknowingly become some strange, unprecedented variation of 'close?'

Goddammit, was Bakugo not only worried about the stupid little shit, but did he actually, kind of, almost miss his stupid ass, too? How in the hell was that even possible?

Is this what freaking _missing_ someone felt like?

Because it was bullshit is what it was.

Ughhh... This whole thing was such a mindfuck. That's what it was. None of this shit would have ever even come close to crossing his mind otherwise.

Bakugo pulled his laptop toward him, trying not to blow the damn thing up in the process. He wished he could just turn his effing brain off for once...

* * *

Izuku spent Friday evening with Kacchan once more. Well, 'near' Kacchan was the more accurate way of putting it. Since he was still invisible. And unheard.

He'd actually been trying to get Kacchan's attention for the last twenty minutes. He'd tried shouting, screaming, tapping his shoulder, shoving his chair.

Nothing.

What he had been excited about, was his recent discovery of being able to step from his bed to his desk. And from his desk to Kacchan's. But it hadn't gotten him anywhere—he still couldn't interact with anything on the desk. Just phased through it all.

He hopped off the desk with another idea he wanted to try. Standing several feet behind Kacchan (who was once again clicking frantically away at his laptop), he called on One For All and delivered a powerful smash against the empty space in front of him.

Nothing.

He tried again with a little more power. He could hear and feel the rush of air from it, but Kacchan didn't seem to hear or feel anything.

He put more power behind it.

Again, nothing.

He was getting frustrated. "Come on, Kacchan, just look over here!" Another punch.

More nothing.

He was approaching the point where he was going to hurt himself if he put any more force behind it. Even though he was only contacting thin air, he was starting to feel the strain in his shoulder.

He'd give it one more try with as close to one-hundred percent as he dared. _Come on, Kacchan, just notice me, I'm right here, dammit!_

He delivered a nearly one-hundred percent smash and he felt the air get decimated, sucked away, violently whirled about. And ah, God, that certainly didn't make his shoulder feel too awesome. It definitely felt tweaked, but not anything too painful, luckily.

Kacchan actually turned his head in his direction, his eyes narrowed.

Izuku immediately paused. "Did you...did you _see_ that, Kacchan? Did you actually notice that?!" He bounded over to the spiky-haired boy before him, and bounced at his shoulder a moment. "You noticed that didn't you?! Haha, I knew it! Barriers between worlds have got nothing against One For All!" Deku exclaimed, pumping a fist in excitement.

Kacchan continued to scan the room suspiciously for a moment before returning to his screen.

"Okay, so it's obviously not enough to communicate or anything yet, but it's at least something. One For All at least has the potential to do _something..._ "

Izuku's heart was still pounding with exhilaration. Kacchan had noticed something. Whether a faint ripple or a subtle rush of air, there had been a physical change in the room that caught Kacchan's attention. And that was definitely something worth getting hopeful about.

He wanted to try again, but he was worried another full-powered smash like that might mess his shoulder up. He couldn't risk injury while still being held a prisoner. It would only make escape that much harder.

But he had a snippet of hope to cling to while falling asleep that night, and he'd take it.

* * *

Bakugo did something entirely unusual and out of character on Saturday.

He slept in.

Though it wasn't unintentional. He'd been up late and decided last minute to turn his shitty alarm off before finally going to sleep. He hadn't wanted to face another bullshit day of shitty fatigued training, and the entire student body giving him the widest berth they'd ever afforded any student in the history of the school wherever he went in the halls.

He hadn't wanted to remember that the clock was ticking ever closer to 10:00, and that that marked an entire week since Deku disappeared.

An entire goddamned week.

...

Could that seriously be right? Had it really been seven full goddamn days since he'd last seen the nerd?

Had they honestly let _seven_ days pass now without bringing the stupid nerd home?

Had Inko Midoriya been crying her stupid green eyes out for _seven_ days now?

Had All Might been MIA from school for a full week now, drowning in fear and desperation?

Had Deku been...Ugh, God, what could they have been doing to him all this time? Were the villains trying to play the friendly, persuasive recruiters they'd attempted with Bakugo? Were they treating him remotely tolerably? Or had they been nothing but cruel?

It was stupid to even wonder about. And it made his teeth clench so tight it hurt. The villains had already warranted death sentences by taking Deku from his home, from his schooling. From his dreams. They all deserved to die for that. He hoped they all would die. He wanted them all to die.

Goddammit, it was just so fucking wrong. Deku had never done shit to anyone!

And although Bakugo tried to ignore it, to pretend it wasn't there, there was a voice whispering at the back of his mind—reminding him that now that the week mark was quickly approaching, chances were likely greater that Deku would never be coming ba—

Something caught Bakugo's eye as he pushed himself up, furiously shoving his shitty thoughts away as hard as he could.

There it was again.

Another fucking indent in Deku's fucking pillow.

That was it. That was enough of that shit.

Bakugo threw his covers aside, crossing the floor in three pounding steps and throwing the door open. He didn't bother with his slippers, he didn't even notice he was without them, he just made a straight beeline for the stairs, bounding down them two at a time.

He took one brief glimpse at the empty common area and turned his fiery eyes to the dining hall. The pieces of shit would be eating breakfast at this hour.

He covered the length of the floor in a handful of fuming strides, and drew up to the dining hall doors, hardly pausing a moment's breath before throwing them open.

"Which one of you fuckers is it?!" Bakugo demanded, stepping inside.

He hardly noticed every pair of eyes immediately snap to him, completely startled and a little fearful.

"Which one of you sick fuck shitstains is it?"

The room wasn't as full as expected. Some of the shitheads must have been out training. But he barely registered Shitty Hair, Icy Fuck and Sparky staring at him from several tables away, and Frog and Roundface cowering near them. And Tail and the invisible chick and Balls and Birdface and Yaoyorozu. All with gaping eyes fixed on him, apprehensive and alarmed.

"...Bakugo?" Kirishima was slowly rising from his seat.

"Which one of you shitheads is trying to fuck with me?!" Bakugo pressed, his handle on everything long gone. "Is it you, you little piece of shit?" Bakugo's glare had fallen on Balls, and the little bastard immediately paled. "Do you think it's _funny_ or some shit? You freaking useless son of a bitch. You think you're _messing_ with me? What, is this somehow part of your demented and perverted M.O.? Are you that fucked in the head?"

Balls' stunned and pleading eyes immediately scanned through the group, looking for help.

"Because I'll fucking show you what happens to sick little fuckers like you right now!" Bakugo took a threatening step forward, and Kirishima was on his feet now, looking completely confused and more than a little worried.

"Bakugo!" The little shithead had finally found his voice, and it was shaking all the hell over the place. "I seriously have _no clue_ what you're talking about! Seriously, I'm so freaking lost! What did I do?! I've been so careful about not coming within twenty yards of you this whole week—why are you going to kill me?!" The little bastard was practically sobbing as he cowered behind Birdface, who had stepped protectively in front of him. And Bakugo wasn't certain why exactly, but he believed the little piece of shit.

He changed focus, his red and glowering eyes finding Roundface. "Is it you?" he asked, his voice rasping and dangerous.

Roundface's stupid, big eyes widened further in confusion and bewilderment.

"It's obvious as hell you're obsessed with him, but I wouldn't have guessed your stalking had reached legit creep levels."

Roundface's brow pinched in hurt and further confusion. She looked more than perturbed. And completely clueless.

"Bakugo, I...I don't know what you're—" her voice caught, and her eyes got all shimmery.

They all looked so goddamn clueless like the moronic idiots they were, and he just wanted to punch all their goddamn, stupid faces till they felt as shitty as he did.

"Bakugo, that's enough, dude." Kirishima had broken out of his stunned stupor enough to finally try to defuse the situation. Stupid bastard, of course he'd try to take it upon himself to do that.

Bakugo wasn't done though. His anger was still boiling over, and the lid was gone, long gone, there was no more attempting to contain it.

If it wasn't Balls and it wasn't Roundface, then who the hell was it...?

He went back to addressing them all. "Which one of you assholes has been sneaking into Deku's room?!" He had to know. "And why?! Why the hell are you messing with his goddamn bed?! Is it to fuck with me?! Because it's so freaking hilarious to see me lose my shit?! Is that why?! _Why_?! Because Deku being gone isn't fucking with me enough already...?!"

"Bakugo..." Kirishima was finally making his way over to him, a tentative hand out reaching for him.

"It's been a week...! It's been a goddamn fucking week, and he's still just as fucking lost as he was on day one...!"

It was all bubbling over, spilling out, all the beginnings of a goddamn, unstoppable eruption. And he couldn't keep it in anymore. It had been bottled up far too long.

He reached for the nearest breakfast tray and hurled it as hard as he could across the room, a series of sparks and small explosions following it. A few of the stupid extras flinched, but he hardly noticed. A small carton of juice was within reach. It quickly went the same way as the tray.

"Why...?!" His voice was cracking all over the place, but he didn't give a shit. "He's supposed to be here proving how much better he is than me...!" His breaths were getting shorter. And painful. "He's always been so much fucking better than me..."

He hadn't realized he'd sunk to his knees. And his breathing was all jumpy, and his eyes stung and burned like hell. And goddammit, he hated it.

Kirishima was there, once again reaching for him, only there was a newfound confidence and understanding behind the gesture.

"Don't touch me, shithead!" Bakugo swatted hard at Kirishima's arm, finding grim satisfaction behind the loud smack of the blow.

Kirishima didn't flinch or seem to mind at all. He also wasn't deterred. He dropped to his knees, wrapping a solid arm around Bakugo's crouched form from behind and bowing his forehead against his back.

Bakugo's immediate instinct was to throw him off, but he paused without meaning to, noticing how Kirishima's grip on his shirt was trembling. And suddenly he wasn't sure if Kirishima was attempting to comfort him or if he was clinging to him in desperation. For some unknown reason, the thought of the latter made him calm a fraction. Kirishima felt like shit, too... And that realization made Bakugo marginally less angry somehow.

"Everyone knows Midoriya was your main rival...your biggest competition..." Kirishima said, his shaky voice vibrating against Bakugo. "But we also know he was kinda your best friend..." Kirishima drew a staggering, unsteady breath. "It's okay to not be alright right now, man."

Bakugo just sat there a long moment, unmoving. He felt depleted. Spent. If he'd had any goddamn energy that day, he didn't know where the hell it suddenly decided to vanish to.

He finally broke the goddamn backhug and nudged Kirishima off him. But something Kirishima had said was igniting tiny inner sparks of fury again. "Was?" he hissed, turning to face him.

Kirishima looked confused for a moment, as he let himself sit back against the floor. "Is," he quickly corrected himself, realizing his mistake. "He's coming back. I know he is."

"And let's get one thing straight, Shitty Hair. You ever say any girly shit like that to me again, and you're canceled."

Kirishima suddenly broke into a grin, a subtle laugh escaping him. He wiped at his glimmering eyes, apparently not having realized he was as teary as a goddamn little kid. "Shit, dude," he said with another small, apologetic laugh as he glanced at the moisture coating his hand. He moved forward as if to wipe his nose next on Bakugo's shirt.

"Back off, asshole!" Bakugo said, stumbling back on his ass. "Go get a tissue for that shit. Freaking kid..."

Kirishima laughed again, and Bakugo would be lying if he said he didn't feel eighty-five percent better than he had that morning. Still shitty. But slightly better.

The extras had the courtesy to have quietly and inconspicuously exited the dining area sometime during Bakugo's shitshow. He knew he should have felt embarrassed. Or livid that he'd let them see such an absurd scene of temporary weakness and irrationality. But...he surprisingly didn't feel anything. He didn't have the energy to feel anything at the moment. And honestly? It was a little relieving.

The only classmates who had stuck around were Icy Hot and Kaminari.

Icy Hot was watching him. And without meaning to, Bakugo's eyes met his a brief moment. He couldn't make out what was behind Icy Hot's gaze, and he had no clue what his own was offering in return, but again, he didn't have it in him to care at the moment. For once though, strangely enough, Icy Hot didn't seem to be judging him.

* * *

Kurogiri usually came to collect Izuku when his fellow peers were already in class. But today was Saturday. There was no class. His classmates were still scattered throughout the dorms, going about their usual Saturday morning business.

Izuku had woken shortly before Kacchan, and had followed him downstairs, wondering where on earth he had taken off for in such a heated hurry.

And now Izuku stood, immobile and disbelieving, in the dining room, peering down at a drained and near-delirious Kacchan seated directly on the tile floor.

He was completely at a loss for words. Completely at a loss for anything...

* * *

It was later that night, when Izuku had somewhat recovered from the shock of Kacchan's incredulous display in the dining hall and had been returned to the villain's hideout in the real world, that Izuku just happened upon the most perfect opportunity he could have dreamed of.

In all honesty, he couldn't believe he hadn't realized the potential of such a golden opportunity before.

It was getting fairly late. Kurogiri and Shigaraki had returned from their weekend errands (with a vague and alarming hint that they might have found someone for Izuku to meet soon), and Toga was having Izuku grind away at Persona 4 on her hand held PlayStation. But she had since quietly nodded off, seated right next to him. And Kurogiri was sitting at the bar, reading.

Golden opportunity.

Izuku had already turned the volume way down earlier, when he'd noticed Toga getting sleepy.

He exited the game, heart pounding, palms already starting to sweat. He found the web broswer icon. And clicked on it.

* * *

Bakugo somehow survived another complete shitshow of a day.

He didn't know what the hell his meltdown in the dining room had been earlier.

His emotions (he still cringed at the thought of admitting he did occasionally have them and that they sometimes actually had to be dealt with—such bullshit) were still dull around the edges, still a little numb. And that temporary, somewhat calm was a relief.

He was still angry. He was still scared. His thoughts were still constantly overridden by shitty green hair and a stupid, beaming, freckly face (a face that he actually may have possibly somewhat realized he missed). But he had his shit bottled up again for the moment.

It had taken extra effort to shake Kirishima the remainder of the day. He had clearly assumed Bakugo's freakout was an invitation to suddenly become buddy-buddy again. And honestly, though Bakugo hated admitting it, he was a little grateful to the idiot for being the perfect outlet for Bakugo's shit. But he wasn't about to attempt any phony normalcy. Not while Deku was still gone. He'd ditched Kirishima hours ago with a vague excuse of homework (which he'd already completed) and an even more vague response to Kirishima's suggestion of getting together tomorrow. The dude was annoying and incorrigible, but Bakugo knew that the figurative support of his front horse was something that was going to last a long time.

It was getting late and he was just about to close down his laptop for the night when his phone suddenly vibrated with a text.

He reached for it, picking it up off the desk and wondering who the hell would be texting him at quarter past 11:00.

He hit the home button, waking the phone.

He clicked on the messaging app, alit with a new message notification.

He tapped on the new message, curious at the odd and unfamiliar sender information.

It opened.

And Bakugo almost felt like he'd been punched in the stomach, for how fast his breath immediately left him. His insides stopped working. Everything just seemed to come to a complete stop for a moment.

The sender information at the top of the window read: **TXT2DAYsndr1894702**

And the text itself only contained one word:

 **TXT2DAYsndr1894702**

Kacchan

* * *

Bakugo just sat there staring, unable to blink, his lungs unwilling to breathe.

His fingers hovered around the screen, slightly quivering—uncertain, disbelieving, nervous, bewildered. All at once.

The phone suddenly offered a succession of quick vibrations once more.

 **TXT2DAYsndr1894702**

Please tell me you're still up  
Sorry to randomly text you out of the blue but yours was the only number I have memorized  
From when we were kids  
Yours and my moms  
But I might not have a lot of time and I figured you'd be the more helpful one to talk to  
Are you there?  
This is deku btw

* * *

Bakugo's pulse was racing so damn fast he was seeing black lines flit across his vision.

What the hell was this?

Could this possibly be real...?

Was there a chance this might actually be...?

...

A sudden sinking feeling flared to life deep behind Bakugo's chest, sliding all the way down to his navel. He slowly lowered his phone.

First the bed and now this...?

...It couldn't be coincidence. There was no way it was a coincidence.

Bakugo's fingers were suddenly quivering for an entirely new reason as he brought his phone back up. His pounding pulse became so hot, he winced at the flash headache that followed.

He pounded away at his phone, his breath catching in anger.

 **TXT2DAYsndr1894702**

You think this is fucking funny, asshole?  
I swear to god when I find out who you are, I am going to enjoy slowly and systematically destroying every single thing about you and all that you hold dear

Kacchan, it's me

* * *

A moment's pause.

 **TXT2DAYsndr1894702**

I'll prove it to you

* * *

An even briefer pause.

 **TXT2DAYsndr1894702**

OFA

* * *

Bakugo just stared at the screen, his ears faintly ringing as his blood seemed to drain. Everything was frozen for a long, unending moment until his pulse picked up again—not in anger, though, in something entirely, completely different, though he couldn't have named it if he tried. His lungs attempted to work and failed. The sinking feeling was gone without a trace. And in it's place was disbelief. Complete, exhilarating disbelief.

OFA. One For All. Only Bakugo, Deku and All Might shared the secret of the significance of those three ordinary letters, those three unassuming words.

Bakugo blinked. He attempted to swallow, attempted to move.

And when he'd finally regained himself the smallest of measures, his fingers suddenly couldn't move fast enough.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm so excited to finally have an update for you guys! I apologize for the wait. My husband and I were wrapping up a home addition (including laying hardwood, getting cabinets and countertops, doing wainscoting, building a mantel, laying backsplash, getting carpet, painting, etc. etc.- it was a lot of work) from the end of October to mid December, and I just knew writing was not going to happen during that time so I didn't even try. And then there were the holidays on top of that. And then after posting my update note on January 8th about this next chapter being up soon, I of course found out shortly after that I am expecting baby number 3! So that pushed this back further than I was expecting, and life is definitely not slowing down, but just continues to get crazier and more exciting. But I am still really enjoying this story, and I have no plans of abandoning it, so thanks for being patient with me. And thanks for coming back for this latest chapter. And I also can't thank you enough for the loving notes of encouragement and nudging motivation you've left me! I am so grateful and flattered by them! I can't tell you how happy it makes me to know this story hasn't been forgotten! So, thank you so much!**

 **A few notes about this chapter- Hmm, where to start? I guess I'm mostly just hoping Bakugo's meltdown made sense to you guys. After a full week of keeping everything bottled up, I think another fairly-uncharacteristic emotional breakdown was pretty much inevitable (keeping his outburst at Ground Beta in mind). It's only when things really come to a head (after being bottled up for so long) that Bakugo actually realizes he has emotions, and they actually find their way out. Without his consent, usually, lol.**

 **Oh, and that line of Bakugo's about Deku always being better than him? I really wanted Bakugo to have a raw and completely honest moment with himself where he admits one of those dark truths he keeps deeply buried. Kind of similar to the dark truth (and when I say 'truth,' I mean from Bakugo's perspective) he admitted to Deku at Ground Beta of All Might's retirement being his fault. I think it's only through those moments of completely honest, emotional vulnerability that Bakugo finds a certain catharsis he didn't even realize he needed. I really wanted that for him in this chapter.**

 **And Kirishima being there to defuse and understand and comfort. The things he does best. He's just...ah, I love him.**

 **I hope that last scene with the texting wasn't too confusing. Basically, Deku brought up a free texting site on Toga's psp and that's how he was able to contact Bakugo. And I know- that was a crappy place to end the chapter, especially when I already had so much more of that conversation written. But I was nearing 12k words, and if I included more of that scene, it would have easily passed 15k. And editing a 15k plus chapter would be a little ridiculous. Plus, it would take a little too much of your time to read, as well, I imagine. I don't know, sorry if you hated where that cut off. D:**

 **Oh, and quick sidenote- Not only was it convenient for Deku to still have Bakugo's number memorized, but I also thought adding that little touch was kind of adorable? I mean, don't we all have that one childhood best friend whose number we'll never, ever forget...? *recites my elementary school best friend's number in my head* *remembers that was back when people had home phones* *feels old, lol***

 **Oh, and the reason Deku didn't text his mom (which he'll touch on next chapter) is because he heard Kurogiri and Shigaraki talking a couple chapters back, and he's concerned there's a leak in the case. And anything his mom receives from him would definitely be seen by the detectives/police. He's going to urge Bakugo to keep their conversation secret for now, just to be safe.**

 **I have to admit I'm such a sucker for bottled up, overflowing, completely overpowering emotions (as long as they feel believably in-character, given the context), and I feel like this chapter had the opportunities to include a lot of that. I really hope you guys enjoyed it! And I hope you were satisfied enough with the characterizations as well. Thanks so much for taking the time to read!**

 **P.S. - Hasn't season 4 been incredible so far?**

 **Oh, and to my lovely guest reviewer- I'm so happy you're still here! Your patience and encouragement is amazing! You are the best, and I'm so grateful you've stuck with this!**

 **And to my other reviewers I'm unable to respond to- I'm so grateful for your comments and I've absolutely loved every one of them!**

 **UPDATE 2/27/20: Oh my goooossshhh, you guys. HEROES RISING. It was evvvverything! If this fic never updates again, it's because I am literally dead after seeing that movie. There's SO much I want to say, but I'll refrain. This is definitely a movie worth staying as spoiler-free as possible over.**

 **Also, if you happen to start getting impatient for the next chapter, just let me know. Hearing from impatient readers really helps get my butt in gear with updating. Thanks!**


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